Of Everything That Could've Been - 2
by lileb
Summary: Sequel to: Ghost. Bellamy Blake has given the redhead his heart, but in the girls mind, Aggie isn't the only ghost that flickers through the Earth. With Aggie's favourite trick being disappearing with the dead, will Bellamy's love be enough to bring the red haired teen back from the crowd of lost souls that haunt her? Bellamy Blake x OC
1. Recap and Important Disclaimer

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The 100, I only own my character Aggie. All rights go to Kass Morgan and the CW. **

**VERY BIG TRIGGER WARNING: CHAPTER TWO, WHICH WILL INCLUDE EPISODE ONE OF SEASON TWO OF THE 100, WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF MEDICAL TORTURE AND VIVID HALLUCINATIONS. IF YOU DO NOT FEEL COMFORTABLE READING SUCH TROUBLING CONTENT, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SKIP THE CHAPTER. ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THE STORY INVOLVED IS THAT IT IS BRUTAL, AND IT IS EXTREMELY TRAUMATISING TO AGGIE.**** I have included the detailed descriptions of hallucinations and torture to showcase Aggie's mindset and who she will become, demonstrating how she blames herself for everything that's gone wrong; including the deaths and downfalls of the people on the Ark after she was arrested. **

**That being said, things in this story won't follow exactly how the show does. This story is OC centred, so I will be changing dialogue and scenarios to fit my character/story and make it something different. If you're familiar with the content of the show and the previous book, feel free to skip this chapter :)**

_Here's a recap of season one of the 100 and story one, 'Ghost';_

A nuclear war irradiated the Earth 197 years ago, and what was thought to be the only surviving members of the human race escaped the devastation on their countries space stations orbiting the planet. Twelve Stations, for twelve different countries, combined to form the Ark. Here, every crime is punishable by death, 'floating', unless you are under the age of 18. Juveniles are to be held in the stations prison, 'the Skybox', until their 18th birthday where they will meet with the council for a trial to decide their fate. No one makes it out of a trial alive.

For six years, the guards of the Ark were left scratching their heads as an uncatchable thief ran wild across their Station. Aggie, who goes by Myles, was only four years old when her mother died suddenly, leaving her alone with her abusive father. The young girl used the skills living with her father had taught her to silently slip around the Ark, supplying people in need of extra food, medicine and clothes with whatever she could to help them survive. She was dubbed 'the Ghost' of the Ark, before she suddenly disappeared altogether at the age of eleven.

One day before Aggie was due to be floated for her crime of murdering the man who sexually assaulted her, Marcus Kane guaranteed her a seat with 99 other delinquents as a last ditch attempt to save the population of the Ark Station. The Arks life support is failing, rapidly depleting their oxygen supply and the exploratory mission sends the 100 teens and a stowaway headfirst into a war.

To the surprise of the Arkers, for almost 200 years people have survived on the Earth. Civilisations scatter the planet, living without technology and taking a more primitive, almost medieval, lifestyle. These people, 'grounders', battle the teens for destroying their land and bringing harm to their people. During the chaos, teen angst runs rampant; cheating scandals and love triangles plague the delinquents. Bellamy Blake had hidden on the dropship so that he could stay with his illegal little sister, and ends up falling in love with a certain red haired girl. Octavia Blake falls in love with a kind grounder who risks his life to save the teens, the forbidden relationship tempting the fates of those around them.

As the delinquents fight for their lives in a brutal bloodbath with the grounders, the Ark Station falls to the Earth, exploding through the night sky. This terrifies the redhead, the idea of having to face her abusive father risks the girls relationship with the Blake brother and her best friends, Jasper Jordan and Monty Green. After the battle, Aggie awakens to find herself in the presence of people she's never met before. Grounders with advanced technology that mirrors what the red haired teen had grown up with on the Ark startle her, making her question the little she does know about the planet. These cruel people desire to know exactly how an Arkers body works in the hopes that they can use pieces of their bodies to cure themselves.


	2. Chapter 1 - The 48

**AN: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF MEDICAL TORTURE AND VIVID HALLUCINATIONS - IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE READING SUCH CONTENT, PLEASE SKIP THIS CHAPTER 3**

**Viewer/reader discretion is advised. Much love :)**

Myles is breathing heavily. The panicked girl hasn't said a word since she woke up in the small medical room. It's stubbornness, really. Knowing that she cannot escape the metal bracelets snapped around her wrists, ankles and neck if she tried. Also, it's the understanding that they don't want information, that nothing she could ever say could help her. Doctor Tsing and her young male counterpart have lifted up the redheads tattered, dark green tank top and Myles squirms, trying to complicate their task. Their plan to biopsy whatever they can of the girl is beginning to take place; their twisted minds seeking out answers and a cure in the red haired teens unwilling body.

True to the woman's word, nothing has been given to the girl to help with whatever pain they're planning on inflicting to the teens already battered and injured body. The young man wipes a wet cloth over a small patch of skin to the right of the redheads bellybutton. Myles' skin prickles at the feeling, she's still only wearing her shredded tank top, her underwear and her socks as she lay restrained on the cool metal table. Her left thigh and lower abdomen feel as though they're shrivelling up, the large, open wounds drying uncomfortably in the cold air.

Doctor Tsing picks up a long, thick needle with a clear plastic tube connected to the end of it, and the red haired teens breathing becomes harsher at the sight of it. Myles licks her lips thirstily, unsure of what day it is or how long it's been since she had something to eat or drink as her hazel gaze follows the needle worriedly.

"Can you get a specimen jar ready?" Doctor Tsing asks the man as she moves to stand over the teen, and Myles' heartbeat thuds violently under her skin. "Label it AM1 - liver markers," the man moves to do as instructed and every second Myles spends waiting is agonising. Doctor Tsing's hand presses on her right side, as if feeling for something, "You're going to need to hold the subject down, we're going in blind."

If Myles wasn't panicking before, she definitely is now. The only thing keeping her from having a complete mental breakdown is comparing the situation in every way possible to her dad. Knowing that she has dealt with a lot worse than a measly needle is keeping her sane, but there's a little part scratching at the back of her brain, taunting her with memories of Rhys. It's not too different, both the guardsman and the two doctors here are using her body against her will for their own benefit. That same soul-destroying feeling of being used and left unclean – _dirty_ – plagues her mind.

The young man stands on her left hand side, and he reaches his hands out to press down on her abdomen, securing her in place. His firm grip pulls harshly at the barely closed wound from the metal beam that had impaled her, causing the girl to make a quiet, strained groan as she tries desperately not to give the two the pleasure of knowing that she's in pain. Doctor Tsing prepares the needle against her skin, the cool, sharp metal tickling her side before the woman plunges it into her flesh.

It's not too bad for the first couple of seconds, the normal yet unpleasant sting of a needle is almost relieving, but the moment passes quickly. A sharp pain burns deep inside of her right side as the needle hits something inside of her, and Myles can't help the small jolt she does when she feels it. Gritting her teeth together hard, the redhead almost forgets to breathe as she becomes consumed with the refusal to let out any pained noises.

"Jar," Doctor Tsing commands and the man lifts his arms away from her body as the woman pulls out the needle.

Myles goes to take a deep, relieved breath but stops when the fiery pain the doctor left behind shoots out wildly. The woman's face appears above the teen and she smiles as a condescending expression overtakes her features.

"See?" Doctor Tsing's voice drips sweetly in disdain, "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Scrunching up her delicate features and pulling as much saliva as the dehydrated girl can, Myles spits at the woman's face. The action causes her side to bloom with pain again, but the disgusted look on the doctors face makes it well worth it. Doctor Tsing flicks her hand out in repulsion, and her belittling brown eyes darken as they turn towards the green-eyed man.

"Store it and get the frame," the woman orders darkly before looking back at the redhead. "If that's how you want to play, fine." Doctor Tsing throws off her gloves and moves to the small cart on wheels, bending over and rummaging through two of the drawers. Myles licks her lips, dread filling the teen at the woman's dark expression, "You're more special to us than you could ever understand, but such blatant disrespect will not be tolerated here."

The woman pulls out a long, large needle and a drill with a long, thick metal cylinder attached to the tip, setting them on the table and the red haired teen feels her breathing stutter. Swallowing drily, hazel eyes snap up as she feels one of the young mans hands start to undo her braid. Her eyes catch a glimpse of the metal head frame in his other hand and Myles panics, thrashing her head around to try and avoid the mans hand.

"This next part won't be so easy," Doctor Tsing explains casually, as if it was a conversation about the weather.

Her red hair in only half-way undone, loosely hanging off of the edge of the table, when the metal frame is placed around her head. Myles continues to try and throw her head around to disrupt the process, her heart hammering in her chest. An arm rests heavily against her throat to still her movements, the pressure making it hard to breathe. The sound of screws being slowly knocked against the metal frame as they're twisted in one by one until they rest against her skin echoes in her mind, emphasising her rapid heart-rate and breathing.

"Please," Myles speaks for the first time, the words coming out rasped and small as the woman's arm in still pressed against her throat. Panicked tears fill her desperate hazel eyes, "You don't have to do this."

Another drill comes up in the corner of her eye, this one with a small 'x' shaped tip. The sight of it makes the redheads veins burn, the dread moving from her gut to mix in with her anxiety-electrified blood. Doctor Tsing smiles sarcastically above her face.

"It works better this way," the dastardly woman declares simply, "you'll cooperate more if we do this now."

The implication that this isn't anywhere near the end is heard louder than the drill as it buzzes on, the tip spinning around so fast that the red haired teen has no idea which way it's turning. Myles is reminded of the doctors conversation almost an hour ago. Out of all of the tests Doctor Tsing had listed, they'd only done one and the redhead still has no idea what 'extraction' could possibly mean. A cure? 'Transplants'? Are they going to test everything, then remove the best suited parts of her and use them as 'a cure'?

Myles thinks back to the men who'd grabbed her when she awakened at the dropship. They were all wearing dense suits and gas masks, and they'd screamed bloody murder when she'd cut their suits. Are they allergic to the air? The red haired teens mind whirs faster than the drill as it spins above her head. Her incessant struggling multiplies tenfold as a blinding white pain shoots through the right side of her forehead.

She can feel the screw as it breaks her skin, entering her skull, and she doesn't even register the ear piercing scream that escapes her. Struggling only seems to make the pain worsen, so the redhead is powerless to do more than lie there and scream as Doctor Tsing releases her hold on the girl, stepping out of sight. So that's what she does, she screams and she screams. Pained tears slip down her face as her head aches brutally, and the teen barely has time to revel in the drills ceased movements before its starts up again on the other side of her face.

The pain is indescribable, and what's almost worse is the heavy aching that accompanies the thick pressure of the screws in her skull, holding the frame up. They finally stop with the excruciating torture when all four screws are in and Myles heaves deep, pained breaths as she tries to stop the tears flowing down her face. Close to her hairline, above the arches of her eyebrows, are the first two screws. The second two reside in the same spots on the back of her head, having gone straight through her hair and Myles could feel the strands grating against the inside of her skull as they were drilled in.

Greedy breaths heave and the redhead swallows drily, her skull throbbing in pain at the smallest motions she makes. The world begins to tilt dizzily, the distorted voices of the two doctors behind her sound as if they're screaming a garbled mess into her ears. Hazel eyes are scrunched shut, and, even completely closed, the lights in the room are too bright, making it near impossible to think clearly. Nausea washes over her, and Myles couldn't care less if she threw up right here, right now.

Another whirring sound rings out behind her head and Myles snaps her frantic hazel eyes open, her whole body jolting against her restraints in panic. The room is far too bright but the redhead is far too terrified of another drill being used to try and close them again. A strange brushing is felt on a small section on the back of the left side of her head, and the cool air instantly hits the small spot. They're shaving off a section of her hair. Knowing that it wasn't another drill calms the teen slightly, but the realisation that it is coming imminently hits the girl hard.

"Please," Myles sobs hopelessly, already knowing its no use. The hands on her head don't even stutter as they drag a wet wipe over the small, freshly shaved portion of her head.

"Drill," Doctor Tsing requests from behind the teen and the young man reaches forward, grabbing the drill she'd pulled out earlier.

The long, thick cylindric tip sends a searing hot wave of fear rippling through her body. Myles can only sob as the doctor brings the drill up to her head and says quiet words to her coworker.

The blaring loud buzz of a drill starts up again a second before Myles is drowned in a sea of excruciating pain. The pain the redhead had felt up until this point could be equated to skimming your fingertips across the top of the ocean, but never dipping them into the water. Now, it's as if she's been thrown off of the boat, plunging into the deep sea with no knowledge of how to swim. It's blinding and all-consuming, the screams tearing through her throat competing with the grinding sound of the tool drilling into her skull.

Minutes seem to drag on, and it takes Myles a second to realise that the drill has been removed and no longer invades her head. Small, pitiful wet gasps belt out of the tormented teen as she struggles to just _breathe_, cold air rushing uncomfortably into the hole in her head. The doctors murmur to each other behind her but the red haired teen can't understand them from where she lay under the throes of the ocean. It's still too bright in the room, and it only seems to get brighter despite the girls rapidly obscuring vision.

"Why'd you do it?" A familiar voice asks from beside the redheads feet and the teen stills her desperate breaths. Myles is dripping in sweat and shaking uncontrollably, the woman's words echoing gently in the small room. The red haired teen turns her hazel gaze slowly to look at the wall beside the door, locking her unfocused hazel eyes on the woman, "why'd you kill me?"

"Mum?" Myles whispers in shock, her neck feeling ice cold and numb.

"I wanted to live," the auburn haired woman mumbles in despair as the doctors hands stutter in their poking and prodding at the back of her head. "I wanted a chance, and you took that from me."

"No," the red haired teen rasps out tearfully. Myles' nausea only intensifies, bile rising up in the back of her throat threateningly, "I tried to help you. I lov – "

"If I never had you," her mother cuts her off as a sharp stinging is vaguely felt through her head, "I'd still be alive. I could've remarried and been happy." Sobs wrack the injured teens body, blinding pain shooting through her but it's muffled, almost as if it were coming from the conversation and not her movements. Everything is tilted, vibrant colours blending through blurred, unfocused eyes. "I could've had a daughter that wasn't so worthless," her mother spits, her face contorting in anger, a look that Myles had never seen on the woman's face before. "I could've had a child who made me happy, made me want to stay."

"Mum," Myles pleads, tears falling from her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm – "

Her mother pushes of the wall and stomps over to her with her arm raised as if she's about to slap her. When the woman is only a few feet from her daughter, her face morphs. Auburn wavy hair that reaches her shoulders shortens, changing to short black hair slowly. Myles' heartbeat thunders hard under her skin, her whole body vibrating violently as her father takes her mothers place, striding towards her with his arm raised threateningly. Instinctively, the redhead panics, jolting hard against her restraints to desperately try and escape his wrath.

Frantic hazel eyes flick down to see why she's being restrained, her gaze locking on familiar tanned skin arms. Her heart flutters comfortably, knowing the Blake brother would help her. His deep brown eyes meet hers, but they hold an scorching infuriated look as the doctors apply a heavy pressure to the burr hole in her skull. Sharp features appearing hard and unmovable, as if his face were made of stone. His large hands, usually so gentle and loving, press down hard against the redheads body, keeping her stuck to the table.

"You killed me," the Blake brother grits out in loathing, staring at the girl with so much hatred that it rivals her fathers eyes.

"No," Myles rasps out quietly, sobs ripping from her throat.

"No?" Bellamy spits mockingly, "you left me there to die. To burn to death, how could you do that to me?" The redhead is mumbling horrified, shocked words at the man but he cuts through them unceasingly, "Octavia is dead because of you. You fucked up the meeting bridge. Anya was ready to make a deal but you had to insist on bringing guns."

"I was only trying to help," the red haired teen cries out loudly, "I'm sorry. I thought Finn –"

"You killed him, too," the Blake brother spits venomously. "Me. Monty. Jasper. Finn. Octavia. Clarke. Charlie. Atom. Dax. Rory. Your mother. The delinquents. Marcus. Rhys – "

"Please stop," Myles begs weakly through her tears as the young doctor appears by her other side, shining a small flashlight in her eyes and saying words the redhead can't hear.

"The three hundred people killed on the Ark," Bellamy states matter of factly, "You killed us all."

Strangled gasps choke through her tears as hazel eyes stare up in pain at deep brown, "I love you."

Bellamy leans down close to her face, "'_no one could ever love a girl with red hair_'."

The Blake brother raises his arm up high as if to strike the redhead and Myles jolts harshly, squeezing her eyes shut when she can't turn away. When the blow doesn't follow, hazel eyes open hesitantly.

Bellamy isn't there anymore, only the two doctors and herself are in the room. Her panicked eyes stare at the young man and he shifts his green eyes to look at someone behind her head. Two fingers touch against her neck, feeling her rapid pulse and looking at a watch on his wrist.

Myles zips her mouth shut the second she realises the doctors are still in the room. Hazel eyes follow the man fearfully, unsure of his next move. The next move doesn't come from him, however, but Doctor Tsing behind her, starting up a drill again and making the red haired teen jump in fear. A choked whimper floats out of her throat as pain envelopes her at her movements. Bright, hot pain searing though the screws in her head again as they are removed.

This time around, the redhead doesn't try to silence her pained noises, belting them out unrestrictedly. Time blends together as the redhead fades in and out of consciousness. It seems to only take a matter of moments to remove the metal head frame, rather than the agonising eternity it felt like it had taken to put it on. The absence of the pressure on her head would be incredibly satisfying if it wasn't for the horrifically bright lights on the ceiling above her face. Her eyes are shut now as her head leans back against the table, and the redhead wonders whether or not she's passed out.

The doctors are still in the room, Myles can hear them rummage around and talk amongst themselves. Something wet drags across the skin of her throat and bleary hazel eyes fly open at the familiar feeling of it. Green eyes stare down at her blankly as the young doctor rubs another wipe across her throat. Her jagged breathing picks up again as the world continues to slur together. The next time Myles blinks, she opens her eyes to find Doctor Tsing with her coworker as they crowd around her face, a new needle in the woman's hand.

Their faces shift subtly, turning into Bellamy Blake and Marcus Kane. Marcus shoves the needle into the base of her throat, and the redhead opens her mouth to squeak in surprise. Myles tries to plead with the men above her, but her voice doesn't escape her, only high pitched, strangled whimpers. The voice that floats down from Marcus' mouth as it moves isn't his own, but a woman's.

"Don't try and talk," Doctor Tsing's voice floods into her ears, and the red haired teens disoriented mind finally understands what's happening.

She's hallucinating. Red eyebrows draw together when the realisation doesn't make Marcus and Bellamy go away. Instead, they stay hovering over her as 'Marcus' fills a syringe with fluid from her throat. The needle is pulled out of her throat, leaving behind a throbbing pain that pounds with her heartbeat. Doctor Tsing's arm comes up, but Marcus' doesn't, as she hands the syringe to her green eyed coworker. Bellamy's arm doesn't raise, but another mans does from inside of him and Myles' head aches as she tries to comprehend the scene before her.

"Label it AM3 – thyroid," the woman orders as the two doctors emerge from Bellamy and Marcus, the two men staying exactly where they are above the redhead.

"Why are you here?" Myles whispers hoarsely to the men standing above her with scorned expressions scrawled across their faces.

Doctor Tsing mutters something to her left, but the red haired teen doesn't hear it as Marcus replies, "You killed us."

"Do you think you deserve a painless death?" Monty's voice flutters through the air.

Myles lazily rolls her throbbing head to look for her best friend, spying him standing behind a curiously watching Doctor Tsing. Hazel eyes flick between the two for a moment, before settling on her best friends hard, dark eyes. The redhead clenches her jaw, trying to remind herself that they're not real, begging herself to not show anymore weakness in front of the two doctors.

"You're not talking anymore?" Her fathers cold voice sends shivers down her spine. "Guess you can '_be seen and not heard_'," rolling her head to glance at the man beside Bellamy, "it's a shame I never got to witness that with my own eyes before you killed me."

Forgetting instantly that there are other people in the room, Myles rasps weakly, "I never did that."

"Oh?" Marcus taunts, "you were too selfish to think of anyone but yourself when you went after that radio. I took you in as my own and this is how you repay me?" The red haired teen is all out of tears but that doesn't stop her from crying, "your father was right about you."

"'_Nothing but a lost cause_'," Bellamy spits down at her as the doctors in the background get ready for another procedure. "You tried to drag me down with you."

"I'm sorry," Myles whimpers out, squeezing her hazel eyes shut. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

A cold, wet wiping swipes over the exposed skin of her chest, remarkably close to Lincoln's healed stab wound. Myles is too terrified to open her eyes. She doesn't want to risk watching someone else she loves cause her pain, so the redhead screws her eyes shut and begs whatever's out there to finally end her suffering. A sharp stinging slides across her skin as a small incision is made by the fresh scar, and a voice that she remembers far too well cuts through the air.

"Closing your eyes, '_you stupid little girl_'?" A mans voice crackles through the air forcefully, "'_aren't you all grown up now_?'"

Hazel eyes spring open, and Myles slowly turns her head to face the man as the searing, biting pain of a pair of scissors and a scalpel scrape off a piece of her lung. Pained noises float through the room and it takes the red haired teen a moment to recognise the pitiful sounds as her own, feeling completely detached from her body. He's wearing a guards black uniform with a large patch of the Arks logo on the back and the sleeves of his dark shirt.

Myles' body goes rigid, her blood ice cold as it course through her veins. The two doctors pull away from the teen, not bothering to cover or stitch up the small incision, and discussing the label for the specimen jar. Rhys Masters stands with his posture the same as the day he died, back straight as if his commanding officers are always watching over him. Swallowing drily, Myles turns her heavy head back to Bellamy Blake's deep brown eyes. His gaze stares down at her with a hatred that she would've imagined be directed at her father or Rhys, not her.

"You wanted me to feel sorry for you," the Blake brother grits out roughly, "you deserved it. '_What kind of an idiot do you have to be to not realise what he was going to do_?'"

"You asked for it," Myles' mother spits out in disdain.

"No," the redhead cries, shaking her head, "no, no, no, no, no."

"You walked into that room," her father taunts, his black hair coming into view above her head. "'_You made a mistake, and you killed him for it_.' '_You killed your mother, do you hear me, Aggie_?' Now you've killed me, too. Does that make you happy?"

"You killed all of us," Alex Murphy's voice bellows, hazel eyes frantically flying around all of the faces around her as sobs wrack her body. "All you needed to do was get that medicine, and Carly and I would still be alive."

The woman materialises out of nothing beside her husband, "Johnny would be fine. He'd be living with us, a perfect happily ever after that you ruined."

"You never asked," Myles whimpers out and her mother scoffs bitterly.

"They shouldn't have needed to," the dark auburn haired woman proclaims, "none of the others did."

The distraught red haired teen shakes her head and wrenches her eyes shut, sobbing into the room as searing pain follows her small movements. From the redheads feet, a quiet thud and pull of a door opening pulsates into the still air of the room. Myles stills her head and cracks open her hazel eyes to look at the door as terror fills her. Everyone but the two doctors have left as a new man walks into the room, not shutting the door behind himself when he enters. He's older than the other two, looking to be around his late 30's to early 40's, his dark brown hair is slightly longer towards the back and he carries himself with an arrogant confidence that bleeds into the air around him.

Dark brown eyes look over the red haired teen curiously before turning his head to address Doctor Tsing.

"I see you've been busy," the man casually states. His dark brown eyes snap back to the disoriented redhead and he grabs the doctors arm, "lets talk."

Doctor Tsing doesn't rise from her seat, "she's incoherent. We can talk here."

The man releases her arm but his eyes continue to stare at the teen cautiously. He watches her bleary eyes roll back slightly every time she blinks, as if fighting to stay awake. Nodding his head at the woman's assistant, then out of the open door, the young man quickly gets the message and silently exits, shutting the door behind himself.

"We need to perform another trial," the man informs the woman as he leans his hip against the table the doctor sits at. "What other treatment options have you gotten from the girl?"

"Brain, lung, thyroid and liver tissue samples have been obtained," Doctor Tsing answers, "I haven't performed any tests on them yet."

The mans full attention is on the woman now as the redhead eavesdrops, "and a transplant would give immunity? How long for?"

"I'm not sure an organ transplant would guarantee a cure," the woman explains, "most tissue transplants die over time. We'll run out of viable subjects before the patient will need a new replacement. At that point, survival rates will plummet without another organ readily available."

"Then what are our options?" The eager man presses, "you said they're the cure. Their blood doesn't allow for survival on the surface, but it can heal them. Will an organ transplant keep us alive long enough to return home? Keep some of them alive to use their blood to heal what the organs can't?"

"That's why I want to do a marrow extraction," Doctor Tsing elaborates, "it's the body's source of its blood. If we perform a marrow transplant, the patient will start making the same blood the subject does."

"Okay," the man replies, looking frustrated. "And why the hell haven't we done that already?"

"The most I could get from a subject is eight extractions," the woman answers and Myles feels her heart-rate thump harder at the conversation, "and then the subject will die. Your body has two different kinds of bone marrow; red marrow and yellow marrow. The red marrow is what makes your blood, the yellow marrow is mostly fatty tissues, but when your body is near death and the other bone marrow cannot make enough blood – yellow marrow turns into red marrow. I need to do the extractions last to get all eight."

Doctor Tsing's blatant words spell trouble for the redhead. They're nowhere near finished with her and the thought horrifies the girl. Her hazel eyes fall closed in exhaustion, begging the world to put her out of her misery.

"We're running out of time," the urgent man insists. "Do whatever extractions you can now, and finish your butchering after we run another trial. I need a guarantee that this will work in order to get the others and my father on board."

"The surface is our birthright," Doctor Tsing proclaims, "this will proceed whether Dante agrees or not."

It's silent for a moment before the mans voice booms in the room, "get me that marrow as soon as you can."

His footsteps bounce around the small room as the door swings open, the sound echoing as the red haired teens head aches. The door closes again after a moment, the man leaving and someone else entering the room.

"What did Cage want?" The green-eyed young man enquires as he steps around the table.

"Change of plans," Doctor Tsing declares as she rises from her seat and stalks over to Myles. Hazel eyes creak open slowly in fear, "we're doing the aspirations now. Prep the sternum, right hipbone and left shinbone for extraction."

The redheads stomach plummets as nausea sweeps over the injured girl. Reinvigorated limbs try to flail out of the metal cuffs that keep her to the table, the desperate movements are in vain, Myles knows this, but she struggles through her agony anyway. Her own panicked voice flutters to her ears as she watches the two bring out the cleaned drill again, along with several large needles. The two hardly bat an eye at the teens pleas, continuing on as if the red haired teen hadn't uttered a word, as if they weren't torturing her with the intent to kill her.

They start at her sternum, and the redhead screams her heart out the second the drill switches on, the tool not even needing to make contact with her skin for the tormented sound to escape her. She had thought the drilling was the worst part, but, oh, how very wrong she was. In order to extract the bone marrow, Doctor Tsing had to force her large needle into the hole drilled in her chest until it reaches the bone, before twisting the needle around to shove it through the outer layer of the bone.

As Myles is preparing to sigh in relief at the excruciating pains sudden stop, her throat resting from being torn apart by her screams, the doctor continues. The green-eyed man passes the woman a syringe tube that she attaches to the needle, twisting the instrument around agonisingly as she pulls out the liquid bone marrow. Faces crowd around her again, blaming her for everything that's happened and reminding her of all her flaws. Dozens of people Myles hadn't seen since she was arrested make appearances, condemning the red haired teen for getting locked up and subsequently ceasing their deliveries of rations and medicine.

When Myles was sure it was finally about to end, an even larger needle is produced. Green-eyes sticks the needle deep inside of her and twists it painfully, like Doctor Tsing had done, causing something deep inside her chest to crack. Using a pair of long tweezers, green-eyes slowly lifts a large chunk of bone out of the redhead. At long last, the torture was over, lasting easily fifteen minutes of almost continuous screaming. Screaming not only because of the physical pain, but also the pain of hearing everyone she's ever met shout all at once about what a horrific monster she is.

Tears slide down her cheeks as she heaves heavy sobs, lungs burning as they demand oxygen. Distantly, she hears Doctor Tsing order green-eyes to prep her hip and she feels the man move to obey. Exhausted hazel eyes can barely stay open as her body begs to escape this hell. Green-eyes wipes an area as far back behind her hipbone as he can reach as Doctor Tsing cleans her equipment. She must be losing time again, because it feels like the second she closed her eyes, the now cleaned drill starts up again. Frantic hazel eyes open just as the tool makes contact with her flesh. The girls body is being propped up by green-eyes' hands as the woman drills, restarting the savage procedure once more.

Once they've finished all three of the extractions, Myles can safely say that not an inch of her body isn't in all-consuming, deep pain. After each extraction, the red haired teen blacked out for a few minutes as the doctors prepared for the next one. During the third extraction, the pain became too much and the redhead threw up bile, choking on it and making green-eyes abandon his work on her shin to turn her head to the side.

Myles doesn't know what happens next, and she doesn't know whether to be thankful that she passed out or horrified. Regardless, the second the needles are out of her left shin, hazel eyes roll back and everything fades to a pleasant darkness that doesn't hurt her head.


	3. Chapter 2 - Inclement Weather

Blinding pain wakes Myles up roughly. The agony wraps around her lungs and chokes her, making it feel as if she's suffocating slowly. Snapping her hazel eyes open in alarm, that damn white light above her is the first thing that greets the red haired teen. Clenching her jaw, Myles starts taking in greedy breaths to try and steady the pained noises that escape from her mouth. There's not a single part of her body that isn't plagued with an extreme ache, throbbing dully as if her limbs had their own heartbeat.

Closing her eyes, Myles suppresses a sob. They've only taken three extractions of her bone marrow, and Doctor Tsing had told Cage that they would take eight. She can't handle the pain anymore, all she wants is for it to be over.

"Like mother like daughter," the redheads mother taunts from the corner of the room. "At least I earned my freedom." Myles opens her eyes again and rolls her head to look at the woman leaning against the wall of the small medical room. It's only her, the illusion of her dead mother and the young male doctor in the room, "do you really think, after all you've done, you deserve to not be in pain?"

Green-eyes is sitting at the table against the wall, looking over some papers and scribbling notes on them. The cart with all of their medical supplies is right beside the red haired teens left hand, closer than Myles remembers it being. So close that if her wrists weren't restrained to the table with metal cuffs, she would be able to reach out and grab the scalpel that sits tantalisingly on top. Her left wrist jitters against the metal cuff, and hazel eyes watch the motion numbly.

If the red haired teen wasn't so consumed with ending her pain, she might be concerned at the presence of tremors and hallucinations following a drill burring holes into her skull. Green-eyes turns toward Myles and stands up upon seeing her awake. The man walks over to her and shines his small flashlight in her eyes silently. An idea sparks in the redheads mind.

"Oh, really?" Her mother sneers condescendingly, "you're that desperate are you? It'll never work."

Green-eyes quietly moves his fingers to her throat, turning his piercing gaze to the watch on his wrist as he checks the girls heart-rate. It's now or never, the red haired teen decides, and starts putting her plan into action. Slowly sliding her left hand against the metal cuff restraining her, Myles wriggles her thumb around as she discreetly pulls her arm as hard as she can. Her thumb pops out of her socket and instantly her wrist starts to slip through the metal bracelet.

The jolting motion alerts the doctor, and his green eyes snap to her blank hazel as she yanks her arm as hard as possible to free her hand completely. Bones in her fingers snap and pop, her hand crushing painfully against metal as it slips out, but she barely feels the pain over the harsh beating of her heart. Her arm shoots out, rapidly fumbling for the scalpel with her destroyed hand. Green-eyes scrambles back in shock but the red haired teen is quicker and more experienced with _death_, lodging the blade deep into his wrist and slicing his skin open.

_What's a little more blood?_

As the man ducks forward to save his hand, her broken left hand pulls the blade out and reaches up to wrench his brown hair down. A deep purple bruise colours the pale skin of her inner elbow, coming from a small needle mark that the red haired teen can't remember getting, and red eyebrows twitch at the sight. His head crashes against the table she's lying on and the action knocks the cart away slightly, the thud resounding in her throbbing body as she stabs the blade into his neck. The young man flails, falling away and taking the scalpel with him as he gurgles loudly on the floor. Shit.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" The auburn haired woman says with a disapproving click of her tongue, "why couldn't you have done the universe a favour and used it on yourself first?

Myles ignores the hallucination, extending her arm out towards the cart, but her shaking hand can't reach it anymore. Her neck presses hard up against the metal cuff that wraps around it as she tries to bring the small table back to herself, grunting from exertion. Huffing, Myles gives up, instead lining her palm against the edge of the table and shoving her thumb back into its socket. Reaching her hand up to her neck to feel where the metal disappears to, broken fingers brush against the cold metal. The cuff leads to the back of the slab she's lying on, and the redhead twists her arm awkwardly to feel the underside of the table.

Bingo. A small metal switch sits under the lip of the table, and flicking it with her still somewhat functional fingers makes the cuff around her throat hiss satisfyingly as it releases its grip on the girl. As she sits up gingerly, her body burns and screams, pained squeaks busting out of the girl as her breathing stutters. Leaning on her right side slightly, her hand shakily reaches over for another switch, aiming to free her good hand. A matching vibrant bruise sits inside her other elbow, and her numb mind can't bear to dwell on the mysterious marks.

Once both of her hands are freed, the girl reaches for the cart again, her joints cracking dully at the movement. The distant sound of metal clanging disrupts the red haired teen, her messy, blood coated, long red hair swings as she snaps her head to look at the shut door in front of her. Gritting her teeth, blank hazel eyes glance down at her wrists, frozen in the air halfway to the small table. The skin of her wrists and ankles are torn to shreds, painted various shades of purple and red, showcasing how hard the girl had fought in her restraints.

"What's a little more blood?" Her mother teases sarcastically from her spot on the wall.

Slowly leaning forward, Myles switches the small sticks to free her ankles and slides off of the table. Groaning loudly when her sock-clad feet hit the floor and the weight of her skinny frame jars her damaged body, the girl reaches for the cart again. Pale hands pull a scalpel from the first drawer and her feet drag lazily across the floor as she slowly limps towards the door with it in hand. The exposed skin of her arms and legs prickle as she walks towards the door, the cool air washing over her near naked form. Doctor Tsing and Cage bounce around in the teens mind, hearing their voices and the loud whirring of drills as the images of the two flash behind her eyes.

Opening the door and not caring to check down the hallway or in the other doorways she passes, Myles heads directly to the sound with her scalpel in her good hand. Strained moaning and strange beeping flood to the redheads ears, coming from the open and shut doors she walks by. The red haired teen turns carefully into the doorway the metal sounds had come from and halts in her sluggish limping.

Dozens of small metal crates line the walls of a huge rectangular room, each one containing a groaning grounder, but that's not what catches her hazel gaze. Clarke Griffin stands between the metal cages and two people hang upside down from a contraption on the ceiling behind her. The blonde is wearing a short yellow medical gown and is barefoot, the scrapes and cuts that tainted her soft features that last time she saw her are almost all healed, barely a glimpse of them left. Her horrified blue gaze shifts from the cages to look up at the redhead and her shocked expression brightens when she recognises the teen. The blonde runs toward the stunned red haired teen, dodging the weak grounders arms as they reach out desperately for help.

Myles doesn't move, not even when Clarke completely engulfs her exhausted and battered body in a huge hug. The redheads arms don't reach up to reciprocate the gesture as her confused mind waits for this hallucination to berate her. Her mother had disappeared silently into the air, and every second that the blonde doesn't abuse her, the more and more Myles' left arm jitters.

Clarke pulls back to look at the red haired teen with concern, "I knew others had to be alive! How long have you been here?" Others? Blue eyes scan her tortured body, starting from her bare legs and scouring up to the holes in her forehead. Myles must look worse than she originally thought, the once privileged girls are wide in horror. "What the hell happened to you?"

The blonde doesn't get an answer, only perplexed red eyebrows furrowing slowly. Clarke raises her hands to gently prod at the redheads body, delicately checking over her broken hand, "What the fuck happened to your shin? And your hip – your chest, your neck – your head!" Myles' head is pulled down carefully, turned to side so the blonde can look at where her hair had been shaved off, "they drilled into your skull!?"

Hazel eyes lock onto one of the grounders in a cage, recognising her instantly. Clarke must feel the teen tense, as her head whips around to follow Myles' gaze. The blondes touch doesn't leave the redhead, slipping her delicate hands down to grip her good hand as she guides them both over to the metal cage. Both eyes stare widely at the familiar woman that sits hunched over inside, Clarke crouching down to be at her level. You couldn't pay Myles money to squat down, her battered body is way too stiff and sore to even consider the notion.

The dehydrated red haired teen licks her lips thirstily, her left arm trembles by her side as Clarke breathes out in disbelief.

"Anya?"

**AN: Sorry this chapter is so short, there wasn't much in this episode that I could've spun into anything. I also felt that as a consequence of the physical trauma of the last chapter, that Aggie would've passed the fuck out lol**


	4. Chapter 3 - Reapercussions

Weak moaning continues to sound from the trapped grounders around them as Clarke fiddles with the lock on Anyas cage. The blonde releases Myles' good hand to pull at the padlock with both of her hands, huffing slightly.

"We're gonna get you out of here," Clarke promises the woman quietly. Blue eyes turn to hazel, "I'll be right back."

Clarke stands and jogs over to the unconscious grounders hanging upside down with tubes sticking out of them near the back of the room. The blonde stops as she approaches them and whirls her head around as she searches for something that could help them. As Clarke looks for something else, the redhead kneels down slowly beside Anyas cage, a low groan vibrating out of her lungs at the painful motion, and she tries to pry the lock open with her scalpel. She knows it's not going to work, knows she needs something else to anchor the locking system before she tries to twist it open but it doesn't stop her from trying.

"This isn't real," her mother jibes behind her, "you know that. Do you think hallucinating about helping Anya and her people will prove that you're not a monster?"

Gritting her teeth, Myles ignores the voice of the woman she'd spent over ten years dreaming of hearing again. Against the lock, her left hand trembles again, shaking the metal slightly. Anya watches the red haired teen curiously.

"What happened to you?" The woman demands, and the girls hazel gaze flicks up to stare blankly into the woman's dark eyes.

Myles doesn't answer as Clarke grunts to her left, yanking something from the wall. The blonde rushes over with a thin metal pipe, and shoves it through the lock as Myles pulls her scalpel back.

"Oh, damn it," Clarke curses as she tries to break the padlock open.

Disorientated hazel eyes glance around as she stays knelt down beside Clarke. Hands reach out to the two girls, begging them for help. The sound of the lock snapping draws Myles' attention back to Anya as Clarke yanks the broken lock from around the cage bars and opens the door.

"Okay," the blonde breathes, "come on. Quick." Both the redhead and Clarke reach their arms out to carefully grasp Anya. "You're okay."

Paranoid hazel and blue eyes scan around, frantically checking for danger. As the weak woman is almost half pulled out of the cage, Myles' eyes land on the familiar Doctor Tsing entering the room beside the upside down grounders. The red haired teens veins turn to ice, and her left arm shakes vigorously again as Myles frantically shoves Anya and Clarke into the metal cage. Clarke whips her head around to see what's got her red haired friend so panicked.

"Get back in," Clarke quietly orders, quickly helping the woman back into the cage and tugging the injured redhead in with them.

Searing pain courses through Myles' tortured body, making her head pound and nausea bubble up her throat. Ducking her head down to avoid the doctors cold, brown eyes, Myles watches as Clarke silently pulls the door shut. Blue eyes turn to the hyperventilating redhead in concern and Anya leans forward as the doctor saunters down to the rows of pleading grounders. The cries and groans of the trapped people only seem to escalate, becoming louder and louder the closer the woman walks to them.

"Hey," Clarke whispers to Anya, halting her from reaching out. "No."

Doctor Tsing walks to a tall container against the wall, as she slides the small door open, a light flicks on inside of the compartment. Myles can't see what's inside and her attention is quickly diverted to a woman in a cage across from them. The girls hands grip the metal bars in front of her and her whole body rocks back and forth, slamming the locked metal door against the cage loudly. Clenching her jaw, Myles watches as the doctor turns to the noise and walks past a couple of cages to reach it. Her heart hammers in her chest and pale, shaking arms jut out to pull Anya and Clarke as far back in the small cage as they can go.

The blondes blue eyes turn to the redhead again, puzzled, and her gentle hand raises up to grip Myles' tightly. Doctor Tsing slowly walks between the rows of kidnapped grounders, and Clarke keeps glancing at the broken padlock on the ground worriedly. Angry hands reach out for the doctor, and she jolts backwards to escape them as they grasp at her desperately. Clarke breathes a sigh of relief, her hand still clutching Myles', as Doctor Tsing walks back to the two hanging by their feet.

She swipes a card over a small, rectangular white block on the wall and the lights on it flicker as it beeps. Red flashes to green and a door slides open, the wicked doctor walking through it as she glances back towards the cages. The second the door clicks shut, Clarke flings open the cage and shoots out of it. Gentle hands help the injured red haired teen first before pulling Anya out of her metal crate.

"Okay," the blonde breathes frantically, "We've gotta go. Now." Anya is very weak, looking as frail as the redhead feels, hunching over as she stands shakily. Clarke hooks one of her arms over her shoulders and Myles follows suit, grunting pitifully in pain as it jars her wounds. "Okay. Here we go. Come on. Okay."

Myles drops her scalpel on the ground as Clarke spins them around, the fast movement causing the redheads open wounds to scream in anguish. They're all breathing harshly, Myles having to take shallow breaths as a fire erupts in her lungs. Clarke pauses uncertainly as they reach the two grounders hanging from a contraption on the ceiling, her blue gaze turning to a warning sign. The sign says in large capital letters; 'DANGER – PROTECTIVE SUITS REQUIRED BEYOND THIS POINT'.

"Okay," Clarke pants, dragging the weak girls over to a dark door labelled with an 'END CONTAINMENT AREA' sign, the words 'MOUNT WEATHER' inscribed under it catches the redheads attention for a moment. The blonde reaches a pale hand out to grasp the doors handle, "Okay."

The blonde struggles with the heavy door, grunting from exertion as she yanks the door open. A loud creaking sounds, bouncing off of the walls as the hinges on the door twist. As soon as the door is open, Clarke surges forward into the small room the door leads to, whipping her head around determinedly. It's not as dark as the previous room, but not as bright as the room they'd tortured the red haired teen in. A fan spins on one wall, the blinds covering it giving the room a reddish tint. On the floor is a large square, rusted metal sheet with a line down the middle and three circles across it.

Clarke stops suddenly, confused at the dead-end they've found themselves in. The heavy door shuts loudly behind them, and the blonde drops her hold on Anya to whirl around. Without Clarke helping keep the woman up, Myles falls forward, slamming into the light-grey painted brick wall as she drops her hold on the woman as well. Anya stands by herself in the middle of the room as Myles squeaks against the wall, her breaths becoming more and more painful the more she moves. Tilting her head, but still keeping her head pressed against the cool brick wall, hazel eyes glance at Clarke as she struggles to open the door with no handle, mashing her fingers into the cracks to try and pry it open.

A bright yellow light flashes above them as a shrill beeping sounds repetitively. Clarke looks up in fear, stepping back to stand beside Anya as Myles bites her tongue hard to stop herself from crying out in agony.

"What is that?" Anyas fearful voice asks, her head tilted back as she looks above her.

Blue eyes turn to the woman and she starts to shake her head before her gaze locks on the struggling redhead.

"Are you oka – " Clarke gets cut off as she and Anya shriek, the rusted square sheet under them flying open and dropping them through the floor.

Myles huffs lightly, before stepping forward and falling into the hole after the two. The red haired teen slides roughly down a metal slope with walls, and lands with a hard jolt in a metal container on top of several other bodies. She can't stop the pained squawks that escape her mouth this time as she struggles to take a breath in. Ragged breathing registers in her ears a second before Clarke's voice does.

"You're okay," the blonde rasps, her gentle hands sliding over the redheads broken body. "Oh, my god – oh, my god," Clarke panics, scrambling backwards, and Myles turns her head to face a pale foot.

Lifting her hazel eyes up haltingly, Myles looks at the dozens of dead, and near-dead bodies, they've landed on. People wearing almost the same amount of clothes as the redhead, a scrap of cloth on some of their chests and their underwear. Clarke clambers over the edge of the metal cart, sitting on it as Anya lifts the head of a barely alive man, gasping roughly as he clings to life.

The blonde whips her head to the two still sitting in the cart of bodies, "Come here." Gentle hands lift the squeaking red haired teen up to sit with her on the edge of the cart before turning to Anya, "Anya, take my hand!"

Anya lifts her horrified dark gaze up to the two on the edge of the metal cart with their hands extended towards her. Slowly, the woman raises her hand to grasp Clarke's as the two teens pull her up. Clarke and Anya jump off of the cart to land on the ground, and Myles stops herself from turning to them. Sitting and straddling the cart by herself, the red haired teen leans her forehead forward to rest her hot face against the cool metal as her body protests. Frantic hands grab at the girls wounded body and pull her to the ground, steadying her as she lands with a yelp.

"You're okay," Clarke soothes, lifting Myles' arm over her shoulders. "You're okay. Let's go."

Anya is leaning against the cart, the three of them breathing heavily as they spin their heads around, terrified. They're standing on a rail, like a train track, in the middle of a long cave. Hazel eyes glance to the metal cart and recognise it from photographs from the Ark; it's a mine-cart. Several mine-carts sit on the tracks around them, one end leading and stopping at a door just behind them and the other leading down a dark tunnel.

"We're out," Clarke breathes in relief, turning herself and Myles to face Anya. Her blue gaze spots a pile of grounders shoes and clothes by the door and she drags the redhead over to them, "Hey. Come on, get dressed. We can't cover any ground like this."

As the blonde speaks, she unhooks herself from the red haired teen to pick up garments and pass them to Myles before holding on to some herself. The wounds over Myles' body are open, the only ones being even slightly covered are the lightly stitched together stab wound in her left thigh and the hole in her stomach from the metal beam that went through her. Clarke wastes no time bundling up as many clothes and shoes as she can carry, but the red haired teen doesn't make a move, staring blankly at the materials in her arms.

"I won't leave my people behind," Anya proclaims from her spot leaning against the mine-cart.

Blonde hair whips around as Clarke turns to the woman and marches over to her, dumping everything in her arms back on the ground and leaving the injured redhead as she kneels tiredly on the floor.

"Anya," Clarke pleads, "listen to me. My people are still inside that place, too." Myles turns her head to face the teen as she speaks, the words spinning rapidly through her brain, "but they have guards. They have weapons. Once we get out of here, we can find help. We can come back – "

The monologue works for the redhead, lifting a thick long-sleeved shirt over her head slowly as her body screams. Myles can only put one arm through, her good arm, unable to lift her broken left hand and thread it through the material as her chest and abdomen restrict the movement.

"There is no 'we'," Anya refutes, and the blonde freezes as Myles tries to pull on shoes loosely, not bothering to tie them up.

Chatters sounds from down the dark, long cave and the three of them pause, their hearts beating out of their chests.

"Someone's coming," Anya weakly states, pushing off of the cart as Myles scoops up a small handful of the clothes Clarke had dropped before standing gingerly and making her way over to them.

Fire light flickers down the tunnel, heading for them and Clarke panics, "not just someone." Turning around, she tears the garments from Myles' hands, tossing them into an empty mine-cart haphazardly and lifting the redhead quickly over the cool edge, "reapers."

Anya turns, stumbling over to a pile of rocks against the cave wall, "Hey. Anya, you can't fight," the blonde tries to help the woman, directing her over to the cart as Myles stays exactly how she landed on the ice cold cart floor. "You can barely stand," Anya doesn't stop, lifting up a rock and moving to clamber past the teen. "I have a better idea. Come on."

Clarke throws an arm around Anya and hauls her to the empty cart with Myles already in it. The weak woman drops the stone before starting to climb in and Clarke pushes her feet up, making her fall into the injured redhead as she lies on the empty carts floor. It's a beat before Clarke appears, dumping more clothing and shoes into the mine-cart before jumping in quickly. The strange mens voices inch closer and closer, the fire light flickers on the wall above them as they walk up to the cart.

Screwing her eyes shut, Myles holds her breath, attempting her best to appear dead as the men walk past their cart. Their heavy footsteps trudge down farther, before turning suddenly. Dull grunts sound from above them as bodies of grounders are thrown on top of the three girls. Hazel eyes snap open at the feeling of something heavy landing on her body and her gaze locks on a barely-alive man. His eyes stare widely at Anya as she lay beside the redhead, desperate rasps belting out of his lips. Several more bodies rain down on top of them, the three of them continuing to play dead.

Suddenly, the bodies stop coming. The reapers talk amongst themselves in what sounds like mumbled gibberish for a moment before the cart starts moving. As the mine-cart shifts, so does Myles' empty stomach, feeling the movement deep inside of her gut. A man grunts above Anya and Myles as he slowly pushes the creaking mine-cart down the tracks. Blank hazel lock on frantic blue through pale limbs as they are gradually pushed along the rails to go down the dark tunnel. The dehydrated redhead licks her dry and cracked lips, the parched girls mouth making the teen feel as if she's turning to stone.

After several agonising minutes, the cart halts, a dull thud resonating through the bodies piled on top of them. Anya turns her head beside the red haired teen, but Myles' gaze is still stuck on the blondes blue as they switch between the two fearfully. Chatter sounds around them, and two men stand at the edge of the mine-cart out of the corner of the redheads eyes, making Anya wheeze beside her. The reapers lean in and grab a barely-alive man, throwing him over the metal edge with an animalistic grunt.

It's silent for a short moment, the only sounds Myles can hear are the rugged breaths around her and the heavy stomps of the reapers feet. A wet, slicing sound echoes in the tunnel before a shrill scream bursts out from the man they'd taken from the cart. Clarke moves at the sound, lightly shoving the bodies piled on top of her away to lift her head. The blonde slowly brings herself up to a sitting position, peeking her blue eyes over the edge of the cart to watch the reapers for a moment.

Her breath gets caught in her throat and she whips blonde hair around to face the two girls she helped break out of Mount Weather. The teen is covered in blood, the bleeding bodies that were dumped on them spilling deep red that matches the colour of Myles' hair all over the three.

"Okay," Clarke breathes out urgently, gentle hands moving to pull a eerily still Myles up. "Come on."

Myles doesn't move to sit up until Clarke yanks harder at her limp arm, forcing the teen to move. Anya slowly rolls up beside her and looks down at one of the bodies in the cart sorrowfully. When Anya doesn't immediately follow the two to the edge of the cart, blue eyes spin around again. The woman is stroking a dying mans face gently, it's a stark difference to the Anya they know, the soft look in her eyes showing how badly seeing her people like this is affecting her. Clarke delicately helps the injured teen clamber over the metal edge to land roughly on the dirt before leaning towards the woman.

"What are you doing?" The blonde whispers frantically, "let's go."

Anyas dark eyes look up at the two before flicking down at the man again, "Yu gonplei ste odon." **[AN: "your fight is over"]**

The second the words are out of her mouth, the brunette twists her arms sharply, snapping the mans neck and killing him. Clarke and Anya stare at each other for a moment before they're both moving to jump out of the mine-cart, tossing the clothes and shoes over the edge with them. Myles watches blankly as the reapers feast on the still alive man, tearing at his skin with their teeth. The two girls have picked up all of the garments and surge forward to round a corner in the tunnel, jolting Myles' attention back to them and she limps slowly behind them. Clarke turns around to face her and hooks her good arm over the blondes shoulders, helping her move more quickly through the winding tunnels.

Myles' bad arm is still stuck under her shirt, the girl being too sore to pull it through the hole, and is still pants-less. The red haired teens loose boots slip and slide up her heel, rubbing at the skin above her socks uncomfortably, as they walk through the dimly lit cave. It's an awkward venture, the weak woman and injured Myles stumbling blindly across the dirt as they frantically try and find an exit, new tunnels appearing constantly with no hint at where each turn leads. The group quickly gets dressed as they move, Clarke helping the redhead pull her broken hand through her shirt, tie her shoes and tugs on a pair of pants for her. The grounders clothes are much warmer than the Arkers, keeping Myles comfortable as her body flushes feverishly.

The drill holes in her skull, chest, shin and hipbone are uncovered, and nothing has been done to clean the small incisions and large needle marks from the biopsies. As Clarke dresses the girl, she quickly checks over her irritated injuries with deep worry lines across her forehead before hurriedly dragging her forward again.

"That woman," Anya implores as they trample through the dimly lit caves, "in white." Myles knows instantly who she's referring to, unable to stop the panicked flinch that radiates through her or the tremor in her left arm. Anyas dark eyes watch her for a moment, "She did this to you."

Myles doesn't answer her, even as Clarke turns her concerned gaze to her. Instead, the red haired teen swallows drily, and pointedly refuses to meet their eyes. They turn down another tunnel and the blonde tears her attention away from the conversation.

"Damn it," she curses quietly in frustration, "this place is a maze."

Anya falls behind the two teens, coughing, and Clarke halts, spinning around to face her. Myles groans lowly at the jarring movement, closing her eyes briefly in pain.

Anyas dark eyes stare into the redheads hazel, "What are they doing to us?"

"They use your blood," Clarke explains quickly. "I saw a solider come in with radiation burns. Hours later, he was fine. It's like your blood is healing them somehow." Blue eyes jut to Myles for a moment, "what they did to you is different. It's like they drilled into every part of your body to see what your insides were like. I think our people are gonna be next. I've never seen anything like it." Blonde hair whirls around as she drags the red haired teen back the way they were heading, "come on. This way."

Anyas footsteps don't follow them, however, and Myles digs in her heels, gently yanking Clarke around to look at the woman.

"Hey," Clarke calls to Anya, letting go of Myles to chase after her as she heads back the way they came. "Hey. What are you doing?" The blonde jogs in front of Anya, halting her, "that's the way back to the reapers."

"You go your way, I'll go mine," Anya mutters in reply, starting to move forward again.

"Anya," Clarke pleads, "we need to stick together."

The brunette woman whips around, "I told you, there is no 'we'."

"We saved your life," the blonde reminds her, and Anya snaps back at her.

"You saved my life because you need me," the woman claims, "I know the way back to your people. I know where the traps are hidden. You two would never make it alone."

"Myles has spent the past month hunting," Clarke declares, "in your land. Sneaking in and out of your camps. She's dodged every trap, and mapped them out for other hunters." The blonde shakes her head in frustration as Myles leans heavily against the rock wall, "we don't have time for this." Clarke starts walking backwards towards the redhead, "Our best chance of making it out of here alive is together." The teen hooks the red haired girls arm around her shoulders again and surges forward hurriedly, "all we can do is keep moving and hope – "

Clarke cuts herself off as she twists her head to look back at the woman, only to notice that she's nowhere in sight. The blonde slips from under Myles again to jog down the tunnel toward the reapers.

"Anya," Clarke whispers urgently, "Anya."

A red light shines through one of the tunnels, and the redhead limps forward. Tripping over herself as she reaches for Clarke, and tugging her to keep running away. Clarke breathes jaggedly, hooking her arms around Myles and they start moving as fast as they can. Their fur covered boots pound and slide roughly against the dirt floor as they continue down the caves, twisting and turning through random tunnels and bends, hoping for one to lead to the outside world. Water drips down from above randomly, sprinkling the Arkers with cool droplets.

Myles' mother has yet to make another appearance, vanishing along with Bellamy and Marcus, and the thought makes the red haired teen question what little she understands of reality right now. She's still convinced this is another, long-winded hallucination, that any second Clarke will turn on her or she'll blink and be back in that torture room. Every second she doesn't see a previous hallucination, she's more sure that what's happening in front of her isn't real.

It's strange feeling; as if she's in a dream. Knowing that she could do anything, say anything and there wouldn't be any repercussions. That it'll all melt in front of her eyes and she'll wake up, having imagined the whole ordeal. Like she's watching a movie, sitting right up close to the screen and waiting for it to end. Watching the scenes play out with a detached air about her, as if she's a button that doesn't fit through her hole.

It's like she's in a group and watching the wrong movie. Everyone else is viewing the same film, interacting with it and understanding the plot, and then there's Myles. Sitting to the side, the redhead feels like she's watching a horror movie about grounders being drained of their blood and eaten alive, but the people around her are seeing a comedy about bridesmaids.

Rounding another bend, the two dig their heels in and hurry backwards as they see a reaper in front of them, running in the opposite direction with a torch in his hand. The men shout and holler, torch lights flickering a bright glow across the rocky tunnel walls. Spinning around to back out of the tunnel, a reaper greets them, walking towards them from the way they came. Tense muscles, panicked heavy breathing and searing pain is all the red haired teen can seem to wrap her mind around as Clarke spins them around again.

Clarke bolts forward, dragging a quickly deteriorating Myles with her. They only make it a couple of metres before another reaper emerges from a turn up ahead, and the blonde beside her starts to have a breakdown as they're cornered, Myles fading in and out of consciousness.

"No," Clarke whispers frantically, spinning around in circles as black spots appear in the red haired teens vision. "No, no, no, no, no, no. Please."

The reapers close in, surrounding the teens and growling ferociously. Clarke and Myles back up until their backs are against the cool stone, breathing heavily. Reapers come in close as Clarke begs them, twitching their heads and making low guttural sounds at the girls as they inch forward. Myles isn't too worried, shutting her hazel eyes and waiting for the horrific sounds of Doctor Tsing and green-eyes to start back up again. When they're so close they could reach out and grab the two teens, a high pitched wailing shrieks loudly from behind them. Snapping her eyes open, the redhead sees all of the reapers cover their ears and cower in fear, groaning at the shrill noise. Men in thick suits and gas masks, looking like exact replicas of the men who grabbed Myles from the delinquents camp, with bright flashlights point a radio at the reapers and march towards the teens.

"Get back," a suit-clad man demands sternly, "get the hell away from them."

Clarke tenses beside a now-fully-awake Myles, the redheads left arm jitters subconsciously around her shoulders and blue eyes turn from the rapidly approaching men to the red haired teen quickly. The suited men chase the reapers away with the shrill screeching coming from the radio before turning to the teens.

"Myles and Clarke Griffin," a man calls, sounding slightly muffled from behind his gas mask and shining his white flashlight at the girls. "You're coming with us."

Blue eyes turn to blank hazel, the gazes locking on each other in alarm. Myles' whole body is now vibrating noticeably, her panicked rapid breathing matching her irregular heartbeat, as the interaction has the effect of drenching the redhead in ice cold water. The red haired teen no longer feels like she's going to faint, instead being plagued by the sense of falling, the dryness of her mouth being long since forgotten as her heart pounds painfully against her chest. Gloved hands reach towards the teens and Myles forgets how to breathe, choking on air as her chest constricts.

Stumbling backwards, Myles collides roughly with the stone wall behind them. The world before her tilts, seeing things as though through tunnel vision, as the blonde stands in front of her face. It takes Myles a second to recognise Clarke, her vision blurring, melding together with memories from the medical room that housed her torture. The feeling of hands on her lingers, Clarke's desperate grip on the girls shoulders is completely unregistered, like the words flowing from her mouth. Knowing that if she goes back, she'll have to go through more of the torture terrifies the girl, the merciless experiments conducted on her flashing through her mind at a speed that rivals her racing heart.

Her arms and legs tingle with numbness, the pricking feeling of being stabbed with pins and needles is the first thing the red haired teen becomes aware of as she is brutally tugged back to the present by Clarke's hands on her face. She can feel herself vibrating under the blondes pleading grip, the grit and grime on her face scraping against her skin as she trembles. Her shaking makes her free-flowing, long, red hair catch and pull uncomfortably against the rock wall. Myles still feels like she's drowning, excruciating blasts in her chest making her feel as if she's dying slowly, but Clarke's garbled words finally start to reach her terrorised mind.

"That's it," Clarke soothes, the words sounding far away. "You're okay. You're with me, I won't let them hurt you again." Frantic hazel eyes blink, violently shaking pale hands raising to rest clumsily against the blondes to ground herself, "You're okay. You're doing great, just keep listening to my voice. Just like that. You're okay. You're okay."

Myles goes to speak to the blonde haired teen for the first time, but only a strained squeak comes out of her dry lips.

"It's okay," Clarke comforts, fingers rubbing slightly in the dirt caked on her face. "We're gonna be okay."

If Myles' battered lungs could take a full breath in, they would. Instead, hazel eyes jut back towards the patiently waiting Mount Weather guards. The second her eyes land on them, their hands reach forward and pull the girls harshly to move down a tunnel.

"You had your time," a man gruffly states, pointing his gun at the teens, "now let's go."

Clarke's hand grips Myles good hand tightly, the two following the commands of the men. Truth be told, Myles didn't really care if she was shot right now, but the weapons pointed at Clarke stop her from making any rash decisions. The redhead still believes this is some twisted dream that won't have any impact on real life, but Myles can't bear to watch another person close to her get hurt or die.

They walk back the way they came silently – or, at least, the way Myles thinks they came. After her panic attack, the red haired teen sinks deeply back into her detached state. Time warps, moving fast and slow all at once, making the redhead feel as though she's sleep-walking. Its not until they see the end of the mine-carts rail leading to the Mount Weather doors that Myles starts to slowly tune back in to her surroundings.

Harsh hands grip her arms causing the teens skin to prickle and her left arm to tremble, the redheads hand having been torn away from Clarke's at some point during the journey. Whipping her long, red hair around as her head frantically searches for her friend, hazel eyes spot her being handled similarly right beside her. Blue eyes turn to meet her gaze and something inside of the blonde seems to snap.

"I saw everything," Clarke informs the men, "I know what you're doing to them."

"That's why you're both going in the harvest chamber with them," one of the men snarks as he breathes deeply through his mask.

One of the men holding the red haired teens arms drops his hold as the group comes to a halt a metre away from the doors. The man walks forward to press on a keypad beside the metal doorframe. Shades of blue and red lights shine from the small rectangular box as the man holds his finger on a button.

"Alpha-Delta Two," the man greets, speaking into the keypad. "We've reached the intake. Two prisoners in custody."

Alarmed blue turn to blank hazel as the man lets go of the button and steps back. Another voice floats through the radio on the wall.

"Your mission was to bring back all three of them," someone reprimands, "the outsider cannot be allowed to leave this mountain. Alpha-Delta One is coming out now."

Almost on cue, a woman's loud screaming echoes in the long tunnel as Anya jumps out from behind a mine-cart. Anya lands on one of the men, tackling him and Myles rears her head back to smash her forehead into the man holding her under her armpit. Clarke and Anya are preoccupied with beating up the other men, leaving the injured red haired teen to fend for herself. Dizzily, Myles uses the mans stunned pause to her advantage, flinging her unbroken hand up to grip the suit covering his head and bash it into her quickly raising knee.

Her body screams, and it seems the energy that had suddenly appeared has left her as quickly as it came. The man stumbles for a second as the disoriented redhead falls to the side. Kicking her feet to the side to catch herself, Myles hits the ground hard and moans loudly in pain.

"His mask!" Clarke calls out as Myles tries desperately not to pass out.

One by one, the now unmasked men gasp loudly before starting to shriek as two pairs of arms yank the red haired teen up.

"I found a way out," Anya claims, leading the two teens back down the tunnel. "This way."

Anya and Clarke start dragging the redhead quickly, trying to run as fast as possible in the right direction. Clarke digs her heels in suddenly, spinning around and ducking out from under Myles broken arm before returning with one of the men's guns. Just as the blonde slips under Myles' arm again to help Anya drag her, a beeping and a heavy whoosh sounds from behind the three girls as the Mount Weather doors open. Despite the burning sensation covering her body, the red haired teen forces her legs to participate, slamming them hard into the ground in the hopes of speeding up their momentum.

Within minutes, Anya leads them to blinding bright sunlight. Skidding to a stop as the tunnel suddenly ends, the two teens look down to see they're on a cliff. Under them is a huge waterfall, spewing water down to a large dam. Dread fills the redhead distantly, the knowledge that they were raised in space and have never learnt to swim hanging in the tense air.

"Wait," Clarke hesitates as Anya drops her hold of Myles, "There has to be another way."

"There isn't!" Anya yells back as heavy footsteps echo behind them.

"Just give up," a new group of men from Mount Weather declares. Clarke and Myles both turn to look at the group pointing their guns at them, "you got no place else to go."

Anya leaps forward, jumping off of the edge of the cliff without any further delay as Clarke breathes heavily in terror. Myles slips out from under the blondes arm as Clarke screams out Anyas name.

"Anya!"

"We don't have to kill you two," a man says through his mask, "do you hear me? It doesn't have to end like this."

Clarke continues to hesitate, her blue gaze flying as it switches from staring down the steep cliff and back at the men. The memories of her torture in Mount Weather flicker behind hazel eyes, and Myles reaches forward. Using every last shred of her strength, Myles shoves Clarke over the edge, before jumping down after her. Clarke screams shrilly as they both plummet to the clear water, the gun soaring through the air beside them.

Myles had read many books about life on Earth, and had watched dozens of movies. In a lot of them, jumping from extremely heights to land in water was a common theme, the activity looking like complete and utter fun. The red haired teen could never, and did never, imagine it would hurt so badly. Crashing through the wet surface felt like she'd landed on a stone slab covered in glass, the transparent material shattering sharply around her. Water floods into her open wounds, the feeling of the cold liquid slipping and sliding inside of her torn flesh is horrifying, the piercing stinging scraping painfully under her skin.

The air is completely knocked out of her lungs, stilling the girl for a moment and allowing herself to sink deeper into the beautiful water before desperate limbs flail. Opening her hazel eyes burns powerfully, blinding the girl, and Myles quickly screws them shut again as her nose tries to take a sharp inhale out of shock. The weightless feeling is addicting, mirroring the blank way her head has felt ever since being tortured. Kicking and throwing her hands through the water uselessly, her limbs move heavily as if muffled by the liquid. It doesn't take more than a moment before her untrained lungs burn from lack of oxygen, and the red haired teen feels herself floating. Not just in the water, but in her mind as she loses consciousness.

The first thing that greets Myles as she comes back to awareness is the excruciating pain her body is in. Half of her body is submerged in the water still, the searing stinging of the drill holes in her right hip and left shin drawing her attention first. Snapping her eyes open and gasping haggardly, the red haired teen reaches forward with her hands to clamber up the embankment, dragging her legs out of the water. Her swollen left hand distracts the girl for second, the deep black bruising reminding the teen of her broken bones.

Clambering forward, Myles' left arm jitters wildly as her face scrunches up, opening her mouth silently. Shaking hands grasp at the back of her head, the uncovered burr hole in her skull still has the unpleasant feeling of water sitting in the hole and it overtakes her mind. It tickles insufferably, mimicking the sensation of an ice-cold needle grating against her skin. Leaning her forehead into the damp soil in front of her, Myles scoots her injured legs up further, raising her ass in the air slightly as she crumples herself up weakly.

"Oh, poor baby," her mother mutters sarcastically as she steps in front of her, the dark soil shifting and flattening under her feet. The breath catches in Myles' throat, causing the redhead to start choking harshly. Hazel eyes flick up to look at the beautiful dead woman who she remembers as being nothing but kindhearted, "What, you thought I'd still love you after all you've done?" Distraughtly rolling her head in the dirt, Myles rocks back and forth, "that isn't even a fraction of what you deserve."

Taking a loud, stuttering breath in, Myles rakes her fingernails over her head violently, "me. Bellamy. Charlie. Clarke. Rory." As the woman lists names, Myles lifts her head up to come to a kneel, tears pouring down her face as water sloshes around in her head, "Monty. Marcus. Jasper. Finn. Rhys." A strangled noise escapes her chapped lips as Myles sobs, balling up her right fist and smashing it hard into the ground repeatedly. "Atom. Johnny. The Ark. Green-eyes. All those grounders. All those people you left behind at Mount Weather."

Myles keeps punching the damp soil under her until her right hand is bloody and unrecognisable. Leaning forward again as she sobs silently, her bunched up face pulls cruelly at the holes in her head. The red haired girl takes a few desperate breaths in, choking on them each as a scream builds up inside of her. Her brain feels furry and muffled, the world spinning around her dizzily. Slamming both of her hands into the dirt, Myles wrenches open her mouth to let out the scream that is desperately trying to claw its way out.

Nothing happens, not a single sound emitting for a few seconds as she slowly leans forward, her mouth still wide open. Just as she's getting ready to give up on the screech, a small squeak bubbles out instead. Gulping air in, Myles continues to cry as desperate hands claw at her face, before a thought crosses her mind. Lifting teary hazel eyes up again, her mother is nowhere in sight, and neither is Clarke. She's not inside of the medical room or the tunnels anymore, but kneeling on the dark, damp dirt of a forest.

Gingerly moving to a sitting position, Myles flings her wet, long red hair around as she searches for the two she came down with. They're nowhere to be found, making ice flow through her veins. Stumbling to her feet, Myles walks up and down the gigantic dam to search for any sign of Clarke or Anya. After twenty minutes of nothing, the redhead slowly and carefully scales a tree to get her bearings.

The red haired teen has never been this far out before, but even so, hazel eyes can recognise a large river not far in the distance. It's the river they've gotten the red seaweed from before and Myles knows exactly how to get to the delinquents camp from where she is.


	5. Chapter 4 - Many Happy Returns

Sliding out of the tree is jarring, heavily jolting her weak limbs. Her left hand is useless, unable to grip anything or hold any of her body weight up as she slips lazily from the tree. Grunting loudly as her boots hit the ground, Myles sets off, heading in the direction of the delinquents camp. She limps noisily, her left leg dragging on the dirt behind her, disrupting the leaves and soil she treads over. Heavy panting reaches her ears after ten minutes and Myles halts, swinging her ratty, long red hair around to search for the sound.

Trying hard to silence her footsteps, the redhead leans over slightly to help blend herself in with the trees and bushes around her. Quietly approaching, hazel eyes peek around some foliage and a relieved breath leaves her at the sight of her only kind hallucination. Clarke is walking behind Anya, her wrists tied together as the woman pulls her along. There's fresh blood from a small wound on the blondes forehead, but they both look completely fine.

An itch tickles vaguely in the back of her mind, but Myles ignores it as she discreetly follows the two marching through the woods. Staying hidden, the red haired teen does her best to keep up while making as little sound as possible. Clarke has been the kindest illusion she's had, but those concerned blue eyes ask questions that the redhead isn't ready for yet. Maybe that's why she's seeing Clarke being held hostage by Anya – because Myles feels guilty for keeping her distance and being unwilling to talk.

"Anya," the blonde huffs out after well over an hour of trampling through the forest, "we've been walking for hours. Where are we going?"

"Quiet," Anya snaps back, and Myles feels herself inching closer to them as she stays hidden in the trees.

"Why not just kill me and get it over with?" Clarke presses, sounding as if the question has been burning in the back of her mind for hours.

"You can tell the commander what the Mountain Men are doing to us there," Anya breathlessly replies, pulling Clarke to match her quick pace.

"So let's work together," the blonde tries earnestly as Myles struggles to keep up. "We don't have to be enemies."

Anya halts, whipping her brown hair around to look Clarke in the eye as she spits out venomously, "and unite with someone as weak as you?" The harsh words stun Clarke to silence, and the red haired teen shifts anxiously on her feet. "I have what I need."

"Hey," Clarke sternly replies as Anya tugs her forward again, yanking back on her bound hands to draw the woman's attention. Hazel eyes scan around for something she can use as a weapon as she eavesdrops, "we both want the same thing."

Green lights flicker in the corner of her eye and Myles instantly ducks down, her left arm jittering. Men from Mount Weather wearing dense suits and gas masks hurry towards the two where they've stopped, pointing their guns at the girls. Picking up a heavy stone with her bloodied, unbroken hand, green dots dance from the forest trees onto Clarke and Anya. Left arm shaking viciously, the hidden red haired teen slinks forward haltingly before one of the men shoots at the two, a sharp whistling noise flying through the air.

Clarke and Anya drop down as hazel eyes follow the metallic looking darts with fluffy red ends stick into the trees behind the girls. Abandoning her frugal advancing of the mountain men, Myles slowly creeps toward the dart, hearing the suited men shout to each other. More darts are fired and the two girls shoot up, sprinting away from their pursuers. The second they bolt, Myles makes a pitiful run for the dart. Her head pounds vigorously as the wounds on her legs burn, dropping the heavy rock to wrap fumbling fingers around the cool cylindrical object and tear it from the wood it had lodged in.

With the device clutched firmly in her hand, the red haired teen ducks back to the side to run a couple of metres beside the two girls. Darts zoom past Myles, the men having seen her movement and they hurriedly follow the three of them. Weaving around trees and shrubbery, the redhead desperately tries to keep up while staying out of Anyas eyesight. Stumbling hopelessly over the natural bumps of the Earth, the deafening buzz of a drill blasts in her ears as images of Doctor Tsing and reapers eating people alive flicker behind hazel eyes.

Twisting her stiff neck around slightly, green lights and dense suits are nowhere to be found through the haze of dark tunnels and white coats. Slowing her pace, Myles glances back at the two girls still trampling eagerly through the woods, fleeing from men who no longer have their sights on them.

Clarke and Anya had stopped running when they turned to see that they have lost the men from Mount Weather. Anya drags a still bound Clarke through the forest with a nervous hasty speed as Myles watches them silently from a discreet distance. It's obvious that Anya grew up with the woods, her insistent stride is as quiet as the library in Orchid Station during an exam period, the soundless steps putting the stillness of an empty solitary cell to shame.

Myles matches her noiseless actions, the red haired teen having had years of practice on the Ark. The illusion of Clarke, on the other hand, stamps over the Earth with little to no self-awareness. No matter how much Myles tries to will her hallucination to care more, the girl continues to step on sticks and leaves with complete disregard for the sounds she's making.

"Quiet," Anya snaps lowly, tossing a searing look over her shoulder at the blonde. "You can't even walk in the woods."

"If I'm such a burden," Clarke jibes breathlessly, "then cut me loose."

The dart burns in Myles' hand as a disgruntled Anya tilts her head in frustration. Blonde hair swings, the vibrant colour swaying elegantly in the air, to face paranoid blue eyes behind her.

"Heavy footfalls," the woman lists disdainfully, "broken branches, you even smell like them."

Deep voices chatter quietly in the distance and Myles straightens, twisting around to search them out. The rustling coming from Clarke's unskilled, fur covered boots stops beside her and hazel eyes glance back at them. Clarke and Anya have fearful eyes turned towards the men's voices, before slipping forward again slowly, taking care to avoid noisy steps. Myles slinks amongst the woods, the pair of girls fluttering into sight between thick tree trunks and dark bark as they halt at a small puddle of murky water.

"Down," Anya orders, tugging the blondes bound hands to follow the order.

Licking her lips thirstily, the red haired teen can only watch as Clarke squats down and cups her hands under the waters surface. Anyas arms jut out, reaching for the blondes hands to interrupt her movements.

"No," the woman sternly declares, "not to drink."

Clarke huffs, throwing her hands down to splash the water noisily. Panicked hazel swivel around to check the men's whereabouts as they gradually close in on them.

"Then why stop?" Clarke demands, "we should be running."

Anyas dark eyes look at her scornfully before she reaches forward and scoops up a handful of mud from under the water. Lifting her hand back up, Anya swipes her mud covered fingers over Clarke's face, just under the new wound on her forehead. The blonde instinctively jerks away and screws her shut eyes, her mouth opening in silent shock.

"You reek," Anya proclaims and Myles would've laughed if this wasn't some warped dream with cannibalistic, buff men it. The woman dips her hands back into the mud, sliding it on top of her own clothes, "Cover yourself in it."

Once Clarke realises this isn't some sick joke, the blonde copies the grounder. As the two are slopping thick mud over themselves, Myles whips her anxious eyes around, watching the suited mountain come into view. The thick gunk plops onto the soil beneath them with a solid thump, the muck sounding heavy. Footsteps stomp loudly over the Earth, signally the two mud coated girls of their rapid approach and they continue forward silently.

Anya drags the blonde along impatiently, yanking her over fallen logs and up and down steep slopes. It takes them a decent few moments to lose sight of the threatening men as they scale difficult terrain to ward them off. The grounder leads her hostage to a steep hill, and starts climbing it, roughly forcing Clarke up behind her. Myles hangs back and sticks a safe distance to the side of them to keep them from knowing of her presence.

The two girls clamber over the top of the steep hill with panting breaths, stopping once their boots start treading along the even dirt to glance down at the men following them closely. Seeing them stop, so does Myles, deciding it would be easier to stay hidden if she made herself blend into the ground by ceasing all movement. Her body aches dully as she hangs slightly, the throbbing pains keeping her body hot in the cold air.

"How are they still following us?" Clarke stresses, their exhausted gazes staying locked on the suited men.

"Because of you," Anya accuses, turning around and grasping at something on the floor. "Time to end this."

The woman whips around with her arm raised at the blonde threateningly, a stone larger than her fist clutched firmly in her hand.

"Anya," Clarke pleads, holding her hands up in surrender. Myles furrows red eyebrows, if she's aware she's hallucinating, why aren't the people she's imagining aware? "I'm stepping where you step. I'm covered in mud. We're not leaving a trail."

Anya pauses, her dark eyes switching between Clarke and the conversing men accusingly, "they're following something."

It's silent for a moment as neither of the two speak and the redhead draws her eyebrows even closer together. They're not following anything because it's not _real_, it's not happening.

"They're not following us," the blonde says with conviction, "they're tracking us. Search yourself. If I'm right..." Clarke glides her pale fingers across her own skin, feeling for something, "it should feel like a small bump just under your skin."

Anya drops the rock, her hands flying up to pat herself down, mimicking her hostages actions. A tearing sound echoes through the forest as the woman rips her shirts sleeve, exposing the skin of her arm. Both girls freeze, and Myles assumes it's because Anya has found a bump, as Clarke had described.

"It's you," the blonde states, as they stare at each other. "Okay, I can remove it. But you need to untie my hands. I just need something sharp and sterile – "

Clarke cuts herself off as Anya leans forward, latching her teeth onto her arm and yanking her head back as she groans. Blood spurts out as the woman bites off a chunk of her own arm, and spits the piece of flesh containing the tracking device onto the ground. Clarke stares at Anya in shock-horror for a moment as the woman turns back to her.

"I will not go back there," Anya announces, surging forward again and dragging the still stunned Clarke with her.

Myles continues on with them, waiting a moment before finishing her lazy ascension and stumbling onto level ground. It takes her a beat to catch her breath as she sticks close to the trees around the two girls. Anya and Clarke are moving hastily now, keen to put some distance between the men from Mount Weather and themselves. Their pace becomes steady once they're a comfortable distance away from their pursuers, walking easily beside a gently flowing creek bed.

The red haired teen recognises this part of the woods, and knows the delinquents camp isn't too far from here. Seeing how close they are, as Anya leads Clarke in a direction to the west of their camp, Myles slinks forward cautiously.

Almost instantly, blue eyes snap to her and the blonde heaves a relieved sigh, visibly sagging with relief. Subtly lifting her good hand with the dart in it and pointing at Anya, the redhead steps to the side to blend into her surroundings once more. Clarke seems to get the message, turning her head back to the woman in front of her as she strides purposely forward.

"Anya," the blonde tugs on her restraints, pulling the grounder to a standstill and causing her to face her. "You're still bleeding," stepping out of the trees silently, the red haired teen sneaks up behind Anya, "at least let me bandage it before it gets infected."

The brunette haired woman glances down at her arm and Myles lunges, jabbing the dart into Anyas neck. A startled grunt bursts out of the woman as her dark eyes spin around to stare angrily at the redhead. Immediately, Anya stumbles back and reaches for her neck as Clarke watches with wide, blue eyes. Blank hazel wait patiently for the grounder to collapse, the woman's legs giving out from under her as her unbroken hand unties her blonde haired friend.

"We can find our way home from here," Clarke declares, grabbing the material from Myles' hands to tie a barely conscious Anyas together. "Looks like you're our prisoner now."

Myles grips the material under Clarke's hands, tugging the grounder towards their camp. Clarke looks at the injured red haired teen beside her as she helps her drag the unconscious woman through the woods.

"We should make a stretcher," the blonde suggests, "so we don't pull her arms out of their sockets."

It's not long into their journey home before Clarke speaks again, her voice unsure, "You do know how to get back to camp, right?" Hazel eyes flick to her before nodding confidently. Mud covered blonde hair bounces heavily as the teen nods back, her blue gaze barely leaving the redhead as they trudge over the Earth. "I wish you'd say something," the blonde prods lightly after a moment. Myles doesn't respond to her or turn her head in acknowledgment, merely continuing forward in her path.

"Is it because of what they did to you?" Myles' left arm jitters subconsciously at the question and Clarke watches the motion, "when we get to the others, I need to fix you up. Everything looked pretty irritated before and we've already left it for hours, I want to make sure it doesn't do any more damage."

Silence is all she gets as a reply as hazel eyes focus forward, ignoring the blondes concerned words. Clarke's blue eyes jump between the forest in front of them and Myles worriedly, before the red haired teen starts to itch under the gaze. Twisting her head around, blank hazel locks on worried blue again and the teens hold each other's eyes.

"You'll be okay," Clarke promises surely, the serious look on her mud coated face portraying her honesty.

Myles simply continues on, tired of arguing with her illusions, choosing to instead conserve her energy to maintain her dream-like state and put off having to go back to that room. It's the late afternoon by the time they make it back to the charred remains of their camp. Hundreds of burnt human skeletons clutter the blackened dirt, still curled up in the positions they died in. The smell is almost all gone, and Myles can't help her curious eyes as they look for the collapsed tunnel she crawled out of.

She can't see it from where they walk along the camps wall, the tunnel being on the south end of camp instead of the west wall they approach first. Anya is dead weight behind the teens as they circle around to reach the gate, the lazy stretcher she lies against is only two thick branches tied together with scraps from the grounders clothes that they wear. The last hours of the gold glow from the afternoon sun illuminates the trashed camp creating dramatic shadows that fall from scattered bones and ash in the teens demolished home, barely anything left of their handmade structures.

The dropship is intact, as are the scorched sheets of the crafts metal that lay randomly amongst the wreckage. It's the only salvageable remnants of what used to be their home, sending a pang through the redheads heart at the sight. Myles hadn't had the chance to take a peek at the aftermath of the battle, the mountain men having come to collect her moments after she had awoken. Clarke doesn't seem phased by the carnage, her long strides not stuttering at the rubble before them.

There's no smouldering smoke lingering in the air, and dragging Anya on her stretcher hardly kicks up any ash as they make their way to the dropship. What's left of a message written in what looks to be white chalk draws their attention. The only word even slightly eligible is Clarke's name, everything underneath of it has been smudged or wiped against the dropships metal. Clarke's breath stutters beside Myles as they lower Anya to the ground and step toward the message haltingly.

It's a mystery who had left the message, and what it had once said. Was it a warning? Myles doesn't know who could've possibly written it, but with her mind lately, it could be anyone. Everyone who isn't in Mount Weather presently would've burnt up in the camp, their unrecognisable bodies laying under the boots of the two girls as they stand on the charred remains of their home. Perhaps it's not a message, but a memoriam. Maybe in this imaginary world, the Ark survived as it separated during it's fiery plummet to the Earth, and one of the Arkers started to list the names of the delinquents that had been in contact with the council.

A light sound behind the girls causes Myles to turn her head, watching as Anya stands behind them dizzily. The woman's dark eyes hold a murderous loathing, staring pointedly at the red haired teen who stabbed her with a tranquilliser dart. Anya throws off the material that had been tied around her wrists and tosses it to the ground. Clarke must hear the fabric rustling because she turns around.

"Anya," the blonde pleads, holding up her hands, "Wait."

The woman doesn't listen, however, as not even a second later she's swinging her arms forcefully and roaring angrily. Her attacks are directed at Myles first, and, though injured, the red haired teen is ready. Ducking down stiffly, Myles catches her arms and flings them away from herself. Jolting backwards, Anya recovers quickly, surging forward again as Clarke jumps in to pull her off of the weak redhead.

"Hey," Clarke tries again, and Anya turns to her.

Anya punches the blonde in her face and shoves her to the ground roughly with an animalistic grunt. Myles leaps forward, tackling the brunette and sending them both crashing into the brittle ash below them. Anya flips them over to straddle the red haired teens poorly stitched together stomach and Myles groans loudly in pain. Reaching her broken hand out, immovable fingers fumble as they scoop up ash and fling it into the woman's face. Clarke whacks the grounder off of the struggling to breathe redhead with a thick, half charred log, and Anya quickly grabs it to yank the blonde towards her.

"I don't want to kill you, Anya," Clarke explains, letting go of her hold on the wood.

Anya stumbles back for a second as Myles clambers to her feet, breathing heavily.

Dropping the log harshly to the ground, Anya spits, "then you're the one that's gonna die."

Clarke swings her fist at the woman, but Anya catches it and holds the teen as she punches her again. Myles charges and tackles the woman, ramming straight into her midsection and knocking her flying fists away from her blonde haired friend. Straddling the woman's chest as they land heavily on the dirt, blank hazel watch as Anyas face breaks into a dark smile. The woman swings her arm up hard to dislodge the teen, but Myles stands firm, throwing her left forearm down to connect solidly with Anyas arm.

Anya uses this to her advantage, using the momentum to flip them over once more and breaking off a sharp bone from one of the corpses that surround them. Clarke yanks the woman off of the redhead, tripping over her feet as she scurries backwards to avoid the angry grounders swift swiping of the sharp bone. The bone nicks Clarke and the blonde crying out in pain causes Myles to snap to action. Jumping up again, the injured red haired teen skids in front of the two girls, and doesn't make any effort to avoid the woman's rapidly swinging shard of bone.

Myles has quickly realised that in her weakened state the only way she can have the upper hand, even slightly, is if they're on the ground. Sharp stinging burns up her arms and side as she steps into Anyas attacks, reaching forward to grip the grounders arm and throw them both to the ground again. Landing on the ash roughly, her good hand reaches forward to catch the bone as it speedily approaches her face, twisting the limb sharply to make the woman with her back against the dirt drop the shard.

Anya shouts wordlessly, bucking her body up to try and get the red haired teen off of her. Swinging her arm up, Myles meets the grounder halfway with her own arm. Dense clunks reverberate through the redheads body, sending shivers up the panting girls spine. Anya doesn't lower her arm, keeping it in the air and pushing hard against Myles' as her other hand flies up to connect with the red haired teens delicate features. Sliding her fingers down the grounders arm unceremoniously until her fingertips reach the hole in Anyas arm, Myles shoves her finger into the woman's bitten off flesh. Anya shrieks loudly and yanks her arms back to herself, as wide blue eyes watch helplessly.

_What's a little more blood?_

Wrapping her slender fingers around the sharp piece of snapped off bone, Myles lifts it up high to plunge it into Anyas heaving chest.

"Stop," Clarke lightly orders, her gentle hands pulling slightly on the redheads shoulders. "Look."

Myles halts her attack, spinning her hazel eyes around to lock on what her blonde friend wants her to see. In the distance, past a mountain, a huge teardrop shaped object floats high in the afternoon sky. Her whole body tenses tightly, her left arm jittering, as Myles thinks back to the battle with the grounders. It had looked like the whole Ark had entered Earths atmosphere and then the stations broke apart as it fell to the ground, scattering past that mountain.

Twisting her head around, Myles locks her wide gaze on Clarke's relieved blue as she stabs the bone piece into the dirt beneath them. Clarke clambers to her feet, excited hands tugging the exhausted redhead up with her. Anya breathes out a long breath from under her and hazel eyes flick down to her as she steps away from the woman.

"You fought well," the grounder praises Myles, locking her dark gaze on the teen.

"Did you see that?" Clarke breathes out shakily. "I knew it. He lied. Our people are out there."

Sitting up to rest on her elbows, Anya turns her head to look at the large balloon-like object in the distance.

"Come on," the blonde pats Myles' arm excitedly, and the red haired teen bends over to tie Anyas hands together one-handedly. "We have to go."

Clarke tightens the hasty bounds, and yanks the woman to her feet breathlessly. Anya stays on her feet, walking lazily behind the two teens as they trample back through the forest.

It's dark, the calm night sky hanging over them as they approach the large fenced off camp. People chatter inside over the girls panting breaths and they slow down as they near the site, paranoid eyes scanning for any sign of danger. The balloon had been taken down a couple of hours ago, falling out of sight as the three made their way towards it. Not having the balloon up in the sky didn't hinder them any, having seen as clear as day which direction it had come from was all the two teens had needed to be able to know how to find their way to it.

Anya had stopping fighting, easily being tugged forward on their journey without protest. Whether it's the fact that the Arkers have reinforcements out there, or if it's the demonstration that, even injured, the red haired teen could get the upper hand in a battle that keeps her at bay, Myles doesn't know. The trek had been relatively quiet, only the soft musings of nature and their harsh breaths floating through the air.

Swinging around a tree, the three are greeted by an almost completely intact Station of the Ark, bright yellow lights shining on the outside of the huge metal craft and illuminating it for the three approaching. Anya let's out an amazed breath as she steps forward behind the redhead, stunned by the alive Arkers traversing the gigantic camp behind a tall wire fence.

"Look at that," Clarke sighs out ecstatically, wide blue eyes taking in the sight.

"How many are there?" Anya questions fearfully and Myles turns around to face her.

"I don't know," the blonde answers honestly, not tearing her eyes away from the space station. "A lot, I hope."

Myles reaches forward and grips the woman's bound hands, tugging them loose with her good hand as Clarke spins around to face them. Dark, puzzled eyes shift between the two when Clarke doesn't make a move to stop the red haired teen, instead heaving another heavy sigh.

"We're letting you go," the blonde explains as the material falls to the ground. "We're not weak, but we're not like you. Our only chance against Mount Weather is if we fight together. To beat them, we'll need our technology and your knowledge of this world. I know my people will help. The question is, will yours?"

Anyas eyes flick between the teens as her body sags at the short monologue. After a tense silence, the woman replies.

"The commander was my second," the brunette haired woman informs them, red eyebrows furrowing slightly at the words. "I can get an audience."

Clarke nods, holding out her hand and Anya doesn't miss a beat before gently wrapping her hand around the teens wrist, shaking the hand lightly. Dark eyes jut to Myles and the redhead mimics the action, raising her good hand for Anya to shake as well. It's quiet for another moment as Clarke stares imploringly into the grounders eyes.

"Please hurry," the blonde pleads, and Anya detaches herself from the red haired teens hand.

Hazel eyes lock on blue fleetingly before they both watch the grounder rush off into the dark woods, jogging in the tree line beside the camp. A relieved air sits over the teens as Clarke turns to walk towards the Ark stations fence. Myles doesn't make a move to follow her, or watch as she goes, keeping her blank gaze trained on Anya. Muddy blonde hair whips around to look back at the still teen questioningly.

"Come on," Clarke urges kindly, "we need to get you looked at."

The redhead doesn't turn to acknowledge her, instead stepping back into the dark woods slowly.

"Hey," the blonde jogs in front of her, resting her hands on Myles' shoulders to halt the girl. Hazel meets blue, "what are you doing?"

A heavy feeling sits in Myles' gut, and red eyebrows draw close together as the teen spins around. Anya is still within sight, and hazel eyes watch as the woman doesn't make it far. Loud gunshots fire, sounding like roaring claps of thunder in the cool night sky, and Anya screams in pain. Clarke and Myles both tense, releasing startled breaths and bolting to the wailing grounder as she falls to the dirt.

"Anya!" Clarke screams, sprinting beside Myles as they reach the woman.

Another loud shot is fired, and the searing pain in her right shoulder is barely felt through the haze that covers the red haired teens head. The two teens slide to their knees, and Clarke's hands instantly cover the bullet wound high in Anyas side. Thick, red blood gushes insistently out of the bullet hole, and the blondes frantic breaths translate to bad news. Anyas dark eyes stare at the night sky past blonde and red hair, her blood coated lips parting to show the deep red shade slathered over her teeth.

"Ai gonplei ste odon," Anya gurgles out weakly, and Myles recognises the sentence.** [AN: "My fight is over."]**

It's the same phrase the woman had uttered in the tunnels to the dying man before she snapped his neck. The gibberish sounds as if it's a convoluted adaptation of English, and Myles doesn't know how her hallucinating mind conjured up the foreign language. Replacing 'yu' with 'ai' is the only difference the red haired teen can discern as heavy boots crash against the Earth towards them.

"Yu gonplei ste odon," Myles' rasped voice repeats, the phrase seeming to have a significant meaning to the grounders when they die. **[AN: "Your fight is over."]**

"No, no, no, no," Clarke breathes frantically, pushing her hands down harder on the woman's wounds. "Anya, you're okay. You're okay."

The woman stills, her eyes glassing over as they remain open. She's not breathing, and Myles can tell immediately that she's gone. White flashlights shine on them as they heave quick breaths over the woman's dead body. As the heavy footfalls approach them, Clarke turns before being smashed in the face with the butt of a gun and falling to the ground. Myles doesn't turn, but she, too, is struck on the back of her head with the hard weapon, the holes in her head screaming viciously at the blow. Time warps as the red haired teens limbs feel heavy, a loud ringing echoing in her aching head as black spots dance in her eyes.

Gruff hands grip the teen, yanking her up harshly as a man talks vaguely in the distance.

"Alpha teams got three grounders down."


	6. Chapter 5 - Human Trials

**AN:**** I just want to take a moment to thank creator lvmehtme! The idea of the string of rhyming words acting as a form of EMDR treatment came from one of his brilliant works!**

**Here's the link to his page if you'd like to go check him out! u/4087899/lvmehtme**

Major Byrne barks out orders as she marches in front of the members of the guard that drag Myles and Clarke roughly along the ground. Bright white lights shine on them as they are hauled through a tall gate, blinding the red haired teen who's head throbs with her heartbeat. The intensity of the glaring lights warms the redheads skin in the otherwise cool night air. Gravelly dirt scrapes against Myles' boots and the loose pants covering her legs, grating noisily past prying eyes.

The dazed teen struggles to keep her eyes open, the alluring pull of sleep taunting her as her pounding head bows to avoid the blazing lights. Hands grip tightly under the red haired teens armpits and for a moment the girl is convinced she's back in the tunnels under Mount Weather. Snapping hazel eyes open dizzily, Myles lazily rolls her head around, her eyes skimming dozens of faces as they curiously watch the dirt and blood covered teens being forcefully pulled through their camp.

Clarke is being held by members of the guard beside her, the blonde looking as exhausted as Myles feels. Her blue eyes are looking sleepily at the dirt, all fight having left the teen the second the first shot was fired. Major Byrne stops ahead of them, causing the men carrying the teens to halt as well, and Myles' eyes sweep up to the woman's stern expression.

"How many of you are there?" Major Byrne demands, her pale skin and blonde hair blurring to take the form of Doctor Tsing.

The sight of the black haired doctor here sets a fire alight in the red haired teens chest, her body jittering with fear. Desperate grunts escape the teen as she struggles weakly in the arms of the guardsmen, panicked shouts still echoing across the camp. Her boots slide helplessly over the dirt as they surge forward again, Major Byrne yelling out a command to continue their purposeful strides towards the intact section of the Ark.

A familiar woman steps in front of the steadily approaching group of guards, and Myles recognises her instantly. It's Clarke's mother, looking very much _alive_ and baffled at the scene the guards are making. The men's arms jolt the teens body as they march on, and hazel eyes drop down again as white hot pain courses through her body.

"Wait," Doctor Griffin orders, her voice is airy and desperate as she leaps towards them.

"Once the Prisoners are secure," Major Byrne intercepts the woman's rapid approach and hazel eyes glance at her barely conscious blonde friend.

"She's not a Prisoner," Doctor Griffin explains tearfully, shoving past the woman. "She's my daughter."

The guards holding the teens up halt, and the doctor jogs forward to kneel down in front of her daughter. Unable to hold her head up anymore, Myles watches out of the corner of her eye as Doctor Griffin cradles Clarke's face.

"Clarke," the woman breathes out, brushing mud covered hair from the girls face.

"Mum?" Clarke enquires with a hopeful lilt to her voice.

At her daughters voice, Doctor Griffin let's out a relieved sob and the guards don't stop the two from embracing. Their grip under the red haired teens armpits sags slightly, causing Myles to slip forward lightheadedly. The guardsmen quickly tighten their grip on the girl as the illusions of the mother and daughter reunite happily beside them, holding her mostly off of the rough dirt.

"You have to help Myles," Clarke pleads, separating from her mother. "They drilled into her skull, I don't know what they did to her. She needs help."

"Bring her to medical," Doctor Griffin orders without pause, and the word makes Myles' tortured body tense up.

The redhead doesn't realise she's hyperventilating and struggling hard against the men holding her up until Clarke is in front of her. Shaking hands grasp firmly over her head, the blondes face shifts as words pour from her pink lips.

"You're Okay," Clarke reassures, and Myles doesn't know why it makes her calm down as much as it does. Her whole body relaxes and her legs stop their frantic kicking against the dirt as her breathing becomes more controllable, "no one's going to hurt you."

Clarke's gentle hands push away the grip from under her armpits to hook Myles' left arm around her shoulders. The redhead is exhausted and in pain, her legs refusing to help the blonde drag her towards where they have to go. Doctor Griffin appears again and moves to the red haired teens right arm to help her daughter but she pauses when her skilful hands come in contact with the thick material of the girls shirt. Myles can feel and hear the squelch the blood soaked material makes, and Clarke tenses beside her.

"She's been shot!" Doctor Griffin reprimands the guards, Major Byrne swallows thickly in front of the group.

"We had no idea – "

"Maybe you shouldn't shoot first!" Clarke seethes, cutting Major Byrne off.

"Come on," the blondes mother urges kindly, "let's get you two looked at."

Myles' boots slide lazily across the dirt until they reach the metal floor of the Ark's Alpha Station, hazy eyes scanning the familiar words printed across the walls tiredly. Two sets of footsteps follow the three inside, and the redhead assumes it's two of the guards, until one of them speaks.

"Been a while since I've last seen this place," her mother's soft voice floats through the air behind her. The red haired teens arm shivers across Clarke's shoulders as she tenses, "guess it all comes full circle, right? You never do leave the Ark."

"Oh, my god," a mans voice bounces off of the solid walls of a room filled with medical supplies as Myles is deposited delicately across a mattress on a table.

She's too exhausted to pull herself the rest of the way up and her body screams as someone else adjusts her to lie on her back. Low grunts tear from her throat as a worried Clarke manoeuvres her and her mother quickly looks over her head. A hand rubs her left forearm softly, but Myles can't see who it is as the two standing over her move out of sight. The breath catches in Doctor Griffins throat from her spot hovering over the teen, soft hands brushing the hair from her face to look at the holes near her temples.

"I need saline," Doctor Griffin orders, "and a pressure dressing."

"I'm on it," the man from before answers, moving out of the corner of hazel eyes to retrieve the requested materials.

Delicate hands tilt Myles' head off of the mattress to look at the burr hole in the back of her head, and hazel eyes lock on Clarke's teary blue. Clarke's eyes shift, moving to stare at her mother as she assess the wounds littering the red haired teen.

"Okay, sweetheart," Doctor Griffin soothes as she moves down to study the injuries on her neck from struggling against the metal cuff and Doctor Tsings merciless needles. "What did they do to you?"

"I saw your ship crash," Clarke breathes out to her mother, and kind brown eyes turn to her.

"I wasn't on it," Doctor Griffin explains softly, reaching her hand out to brush dirty blonde hair from Clarke's eyes and grip her hand tightly. "I'm right here."

As Doctor Griffin turns back to the redhead, her gaze halts on Myles' left hand. Gentle hands lift the broken limb up to inspect it, and the red haired teen can't help the violent shudder that courses through her arm. Brown eyebrows furrow slightly as the doctor skims her fingers over the torn, bruised and swollen skin. A man with black hair whizzes past the group to place down the materials he had gathered onto the table beside Clarke's mother.

"Oh, you fought real hard, didn't you?" Doctor Griffin breathes out as she looks at the shredded flesh from where the restraints had kept her pinned down. "Jackson, I'm also going to need a splint with wrist support and the complete immobilisation of the thumb, fourth and fifth fingers."

"Fractures?" The man, Jackson, enquires as he steps up to look over the woman's shoulder.

Myles' left arm trembles in the kind doctors hand as she responds, "dislocated thumb has already been manipulated back into its socket. There's a displace fracture of the fourth metacarpal and what feels like a stress fracture to the proximal phalanx of her fifth finger." Jackson quickly darts off and says a quiet word to Major Byrne as she stands awkwardly in the doorway. Doctor Griffin lets out a small worried groan, "you poor thing." Brown eyes look into unfocused hazel, "the pinky and thumb we can leave and they'll heal on their own but the displace fracture will need to be set back into place."

The red haired teen doesn't respond, staring at her dead mother as she leans against the wall behind Clarke and waiting for her to say something. She's slowly floating back to herself on Doctor Tsings table, it's the only explanation that could account for her hallucinations meshing with a medical room. Doctor Griffin and Clarke speak soft words that Myles doesn't hear, too focussed on trying to remove herself from any more pain when a small flashlight shines in her eyes.

White light blinds the girls hazy vision, and the sound of a drill buzzes loudly in her ears at the familiar sight. Her eyes swim as her body flinches away, desperately trying to escape from the doctors hands again. Gentle hands touch the hyperventilating teens body to keep her on the mattress, but the skin burns underneath their fingers. Warm fingers no longer feel like human hands but cool metal, the icy metal cuffs pressing hard against her skin as Doctor Tsings voice echoes over the drill.

"_Label_ _it_ _AM2_ – _Brain_ _tissue."_

Clarke's jumbled voice slices through the flashes of Doctor Tsing and green-eyes, forcing hazel eyes to blink and recognise the blonde in front of her. Kind hands grip roughly on the redheads upper arms, pleading blue eyes pierce into panicked hazel, muttering the same two words.

"You're okay," Clarke declares strongly, "you're okay. You're okay."

"You're safe here," Doctor Griffin informs her, stroking the matted long red hair framing the girls face. "You're safe, we're not going to hurt you."

Myles doesn't take her terrified eyes off of a filthy Clarke, staring into her blue gaze as she breathes harshly. If Clarke's there, she's not alone. If Clarke's there, she's not being hurt. If Clarke's there, she's being kind and gentle. Doctor Griffin grabs a wet rag and gently swipes it over the teens face. The sensation causes the injured teen to snap her head towards her dizzily, they're preparing for another biopsy, for another extraction.

"You're okay," the blonde soothes, keeping pressure on the bullet wound in the redheads arm and Myles deflates slightly.

"Is she alright?" Major Byrnes voice asks from the doorway as Myles winces loudly in pain as her wounds are gently cleaned.

"_They_ will be," Doctor Griffin replies cooly and Clarke turns a searing gaze to the Major.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the woman tries to amend, "we had no idea who they were." The blonde woman steps forward as Jackson moves to clean Clarke's face while Doctor Griffin works, "Where have you been?"

Myles' left arm jitters again and Clarke's mother snaps in warning, "Byrne."

It's quiet for a moment as the doctor steadily moves to the infected half-assed stitches the doctors at Mount Weather did to keep the hole made by the tunnels support beam closed. The brunette haired woman inhales sharply when she sees them, her hand touching them lightly and feeling the scorching heat that emits from the wound.

"Mount Weather," Clarke answers, her words slurring slightly as her exhaustion pulls at her from under Jackson's calming hands.

Both women tense at the information, their faces clouding over in shock.

"The grounders took you to Mount Weather?" Major Byrne reiterates, stern eyes switching between the two teens expectantly.

"No," the blonde girl groans, trying to stand up from her seat beside Myles' mattress. Hazel eyes watch the movement before locking on the illusion of her mother standing against the wall behind her, "we have to get them out."

"We're not doing this right now," Doctor Griffin informs the guardswoman as Jackson pushes Clarke back down gently, her voice saying it's not up for discussion.

Major Byrne sighs heavily, "yes, ma'am."

The blonde woman turns and walks out of the doorway, leaving the teens with the doctors. Myles isn't struggling anymore, trapped in a detached staring match with her dead mother as Doctor Griffin tries to calm her daughter down.

"Mum," Clarke's soft voice pleads, "did anyone else make it here?"

"Yes," Doctor Griffin breathes out, reaching her hands up to cradle the teens face as she speaks to her. "Six of you did."

"Finn and Bellamy?" Clarke asks, and the Blake brothers name makes the redhead turn her head towards them, her left arm shaking. Myles doesn't hear an answer from the woman, only a teary Clarke whispering, "I thought they were dead." Shaking hands grip Myles' face and tilt her head to make her dazed hazel eyes meet her friends blue, "did you hear that? Bellamy's alive." The blonde heaves a sob and spins around to face her mother again, "I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead."

Doctor Griffin moves away from Myles slightly to comfort her daughter and Jackson steps up to continue tending to the red haired teens wounds. His eyes glance over the injuries her pushed up tattered dark green tank top reveal, before flicking his brown eyes up to look into distant hazel. Clarke cries beside the teen as Jackson's soft hands cradle Myles' face, twisting her head around to get a better look at her frozen, unseeing eyes. Jackson's gaze gets caught on the small drill holes in her temples and he shuffles closer to look at the back of her head.

Clarke sobs as her mother whispers soft words of comfort into her ears, before Jackson's hesitant voice interrupts the moment.

"Abby," the mans shaky voice calls, "you need to see this."

In a flash, the woman appears above her alongside her coworker, and Jackson tilts Myles' head some more to show the woman the burr hole into her skull. Clarke hiccups beside the teen, shifting in her seat to wrap her hands around the redheads right hand and hold it close to her.

"They didn't just drill into her skull," the man informs, "they took a piece of the soft tissue." The blondes hands holding Myles' clench, squeezing tightly. "There's trauma to her parietal lobe. They drilled straight through her hair here and here. They didn't clean any of the sites - they didn't put a cover over the burr hole to protect the tissue."

"They didn't want her to survive," Doctor Griffin realises, tipping her head to check for more wounds. "They didn't clean any of the wounds. What little stitches they did give her were lazy, careless, probably just to stop her from bleeding out. We're going to need to drain the wounds, they're already infected."

Jackson leaves blurry hazel eyes, disappearing to the other side of the room with hasty steps echoing around them. Clarke is still squeezing the redheads hand tight when she speaks up with shaky words.

"They also did it to her legs," the blonde adds quietly and her mother stills.

"Alright, sweetheart," Doctor Griffin says softly, leaning over to look into Myles' blank eyes. "I need to check the wounds on your legs, can I do that?"

The red haired teen doesn't answer, merely turns her head to look back at her dead mother, the only figure in the room that isn't covered by a strange haze.

"She's only spoken once since we found each other," Clarke whimpers, her worried words jumbling together, "Mum, she's in really bad shape. They spent so long in Mount Weather that the radiation kills them. People came in with radiation burns and they were healed by blood transfusions. I snuck into a room and it was filled with grounders in cages, they had two of them hanging upside down and they were draining them of their blood. They were experimenting on her."

"Is that where Myles was?" Doctor Griffin asks urgently, fingers gliding over the horrifically bruised needle marks on the insides of her elbows.

"She wasn't in a cage," the blonde answers, "but she was on that level. I climbed through a vent and knocked it to the ground. She followed the sound from wherever they were keeping her."

The red haired teens pants are slowly tugged down and off of her legs. Hands graze over the wounds on her hip, thigh and shin before Jackson returns to her head with an armful of supplies. His return sets Doctor Griffin into motion, moving up to stand on the other side of her head and prop a small pillow under her neck to keep the burr hole off of the mattress. Cold liquid squirts into the hole in her head and Myles feels like ants with pins for feet stomp around inside of her skull, scraping under her skin.

White, hot panic floods through her at the feeling, her whole body heaving as she tries to sit up and clamber away from the doctors hands. Clarke is up in an instant, her gentle hands carefully pushing the teen back.

"You're okay," the blonde soothes, and Myles stills, locking her frantic hazel eyes on the teens blue. "You're okay."

"You're safe here," Doctor Griffin states, "I'm sorry, we don't have any anaesthetics but we'll be very gentle. You're safe."

Myles' chest doesn't stop heaving harshly, her lungs burning and constricting, not allowing the teen to take a full breath in. Her vision is clear and sharp now as she's being thrust back into awareness, the muffling smog of exhaustion and pain lifting as thick dread takes over. Clarke's blue eyes flick up to the doctors behind Myles' head quickly, before she inches forward again.

"You're okay," Clarke repeats, "Bellamy's okay. You're going to see him soon. I'm sure he's really missed you, and when he finds out what's happened, he'll make them pay. You're okay. Bellamy will keep you safe."

"He doesn't want to see you," her dead mother snarls from the wall she leans against and hazel eyes look to her. "After everything you've done? He wishes you would just die, isn't that what he said?"

When Myles doesn't calm down, Doctor Griffin whispers something to Jackson and slips down to look at her face. Hazel eyes don't look at her, even as the doctor leans down directly in her line of sight. Myles just stares through her at her mother against the wall, her vision never wavering as her left arm trembles.

"Hey, sweetheart," the brunette haired woman tries to get her attention softly. "Would you look at me, please?"

The red haired teen doesn't listen to her, doesn't move her head or her eyes to acknowledge the doctors request as a pair of hands gently muses about the small shaved part of her hair. It's silent for a moment as no one speaks, and Clarke bounces her legs anxiously.

"Brain damage?" Clarke enquires worriedly, squeezing Myles' hand tightly.

"I can't tell," her mother answers lowly, "we'll have to wait to find out."

"Wait?" The blonde questions incredulously, "shes not talking, she has a tremor and she can't understand us. What more are you waiting for?"

"The tremor is psychological," Doctor Griffin diagnoses easily, "she can understand us."

"It's not psychological," Clarke refutes loudly, "I've been with her for a whole day! That tremor has been there consistently."

"It's her left hand," Jackson supplies breathily from the back of the red haired teens head as he works. "They drilled into the left side of her head. If it was a result of brain trauma, it wou – "

Clarke's face shifts as she nods in understanding, "It would be her right hand. Then why isn't she responding to us?"

Doctor Griffin leans away slightly, ducking out of Myles' gaze before sliding back into it, obstructing her view of her mother.

"Because she's not really here with us," Doctor Griffin answers, leaning in closer to the redhead. "Hey, Myles, you remember me, right?" When no response follows, the woman continues, "You've seen me before, haven't you? To fix up this," as the doctor talks, she grazes her fingers lightly over the scars littering the exposed flesh of her abdomen, "and this. Do you remember that?"

Hazel eyes don't shift or focus on her as she speaks, so the woman tries another approach, "the sky is green and the sun isn't real." Myles' shocked eyes focus on brown irises at the startling sentence, and Abby grins at the action, "there you are. Can you tell me your name?" The redhead doesn't answer, but she keeps her eyes on the doctor, "Aggie, isn't it?"

"Aggie?" Clarke questions with blonde eyebrows pulled together, "that's Jasper and Monty's nickname for her."

"It's her first name, isn't it, Aggie?" Doctor Griffin presses, getting no response again, "what's Myles short for? Can you tell me that?"

Cracked dry lips part and a weak whisper flows from her parched throat, "Mylinski."

"That's right," Abby praises her, a large smile across her face, "Aggie Mylinski. You remember me, don't you?"

Her mother shifts against the wall and hazel eyes switch to her again, staring through Doctor Griffins head. The back of her head stings sharply as Jackson cleans her drill holes and covers them.

"We've all been calling you by your last name?" Clarke's surprised query falls on deaf ears, the red haired teens attention being stolen by her silent dead mother.

"Stay here with me, Aggie," Abby taps her cheek lightly. The teen doesn't come back to her, so she decides to say another abrupt string of words to distract the girl. "Socks, socks on clocks." Hazel eyes zone in on hers again, "Coats, coats on boats. Fans, fans in cans. Rags, rags in bags. Bees, bees in trees. Rings, rings that sing." Red eyebrows draw together slowly, "Miles, miles of tiles. Myles, Myles has smiles. Myles, Myles goes miles. Myles, Myles is Myles."

"Myles is Myles," the redhead whispers back, a perplexed look on her face.

"Do you know where you are, Myles?" Doctor Griffin probes gently, a kind expression on her face.

The red haired teen doesn't hesitate to answer, "Mount Weather."

Clarke's face falls as Abby nods in understanding and the hands stutter in her hair. Tears fill blue eyes again as the teen pleads for her friend to understand.

"No," the blonde rebukes, weeping, "no, we left. We got out. We're safe."

"You're in Alpha Station," Abby informs her slowly, and delicate features start to cloud over with panic. "We sent the Ark to the ground. You're in Alpha Station at Camp Jaha."

Myles doesn't reply, instead turning empty hazel eyes to look at Clarke as she cries over her. It's silent for a moment and Doctor Griffin quickly turns away to grab for something and bring it in front of Myles' eyes while her attention is still on them. Her right hand feels numb from how hard Clarke has been gripping it and her fingers slowly twitch to clasp around her hands to try and comfort the crying teen.

Abby holds up a silver pen, "you see this?" Empty hazel eyes look at the object, and the doctor continues, "it's from the Ark. Right here, it says it in little white lettering." As the woman points to it, she holds it closer to the teens face as Jackson's calm hands move to clean the holes in her temples. "How could this be in Mount Weather?"

"Because you're not real," Myles supplies weakly, her words filled with confidence and locking her gaze on brown eyes.

"Is this real?" Doctor Griffin prompts, holding up the pen again, "does this look real?" As she speaks, she clicks the button several times before hovering the pen over her stomach and taking it apart where Myles can see it. "Look, there we go. This is real, isn't it?"

Red eyebrows draw together as her eyes switch back and forth from the disassembled pen to her dead mother. Shakily lifting up her broken hand, Clarke reaches out to stop her but her mother silently halts her movement, and both of their eyes watch patiently as her swollen hand fumbles over the top of the pieces resting on the scarred skin of her stomach. After a minute of the teen concentrating hard on the pen, Abby's hands start slowly picking up the pieces and putting it back together.

Hazel eyes stay on the object in the doctors hands, and when Abby goes to put the spring in the wrong way, Myles' bad hand shoots up to stop her. Pointing weakly with her finger to the right end, Abby smiles widely at her. Twisting the silver tip onto the end of the pen, Abby shoos Clarke's hands away kindly.

"Let her hold it," the doctor whispers to her daughter and she places the pen in the redheads good hand when the blonde pries her hands back. "There you go," Doctor Griffin breathes as Myles holds her hand up weakly, "see, that's real. Now, whenever you're not sure if something's real, I want you to click that pen."

Instantly, Myles presses the button on top of the pen repetitively, whipping her head to look behind Abby as the sound bounces around the room. Her mother is no where to be seen, and the red haired teen halts her incessant clicking of the pen. Twisting her head around in Jackson's hands as panicked heat flood through her veins, her long, red hair tugs uncomfortably underneath of her. Her breathing becomes harsh, and frantic hazel eyes land on Clarke as the blonde rubs her hand up and down her leg comfortingly.

When their eyes lock, Myles clicks the pen over and over again. If this is real, has everything with Clarke been real? The reapers, the grounders, the people at Mount Weather – their people at Mount Weather? Anya?

"What…" the redhead breathes, "I don't… what… where – I – "

"You're okay," a teary Clarke soothes, "You're okay. We're safe. We're okay."

Myles can't calm her breathing down and her head feels furry again. Her vision swims before black spots appear and Abby and Jackson stand in front of her as their mouths move with words the redhead can't hear over the blood rushing in her ears. It's madness that courses through her veins, the heavy sense of dread quickly spreading from her gut like wildfire. The red haired teen can't tell if she's the one who's shaking or if the three people crowding over her face are vibrating at a speed that rivals her racing heart. Her chest feels like it's going to explode from the lack of air, and it's the last thing that she can understand before the world is slowly eaten away by the black spots in her eyes.

White coats, black hair, green eyes and _pain_ plague every single moment of her unconscious slumber. It leaves the red haired teen feeling unrested, as if she'd spent the last how ever many hours running a marathon instead of sleeping. Myles jolts herself violently when she starts to feel the sensation of falling, and hazel eyes snap open to stare at the ceiling of the Ark. Recognising the metal instantly doesn't do anything to settle her panting breaths or rapid heart, as she twists her head around anxiously.

It's only her, Clarke and Abby in the room. Clarke has her own mattress now, set up on a cleared table across the room. The mother and daughter duo are asleep, Abby sitting beside her daughter and using the table as her pillow. Her blonde friend is clean now, the mud and blood that had covered her has been washed off and the gashes on her face have been cleaned. She's wearing new clothes, a simple dark blue shirt with sleeves that reach her elbows and plain, faded jeans. Typical clothes from the Ark.

Myles glances down at herself to find that she's been dressed as well, her body and wounds are cleaned and covered. Loose, worn black jeans cover her legs, and she wears a dark, ashy grey shirt with sleeves slightly shorter than Clarke's. Short black socks cover her feet, and the raw flesh around her ankles comes into sight as the redhead gingerly sits up. Her left hand aches savagely from inside of a stiff black splint, her pinky and ring finger stuck together as all but two fingers are left unmovable.

Squeaked grunts escape her as she slowly slides onto the cool metal floor. As soon as her feet hit the ground, her legs give out under her, causing her to grip the thin mattress for support. Taking deep breaths, the wounds on her front twinge with pain and the bullet wound in her right arm burns as she rests her weight on it. Hazel eyes flick up to check that the two across from her haven't woken up and her gaze halts on the silver pen. Reaching across the table, Myles grabs the pen and clicks it a few times as shaky legs get steadier on the ground.

Slowly pushing off of the table, Myles gingerly walks out of the doorway Major Byrne had when she left the room, hoping that it will take her to the outside of the Arkers camp. Whether this is a hallucination or not, the red haired teen can't be here. The world still feels wrong, her mother, Marcus and Bellamy still feeling more real than anything that's transpired since she slipped her hand from that metal cuff.

Limping legs drag Myles' sock-clad feet across the metal floor as she traverses the almost unrecognisable hallways. There was once a point in her life when Myles could silently slip around the Station unnoticed, knowing every dropoff and supply access point that could possibly exist on the Ark like the back of her hand. Even in her small escapades busting out of her solitary confinement cell in the Skybox, Myles could read every vent, wall, ceiling and door like a map, knowing exactly where everything was and how to get to it. Now, hazel eyes can barely tell which way is up, the walls all looking the same and leaving the redhead feeling as if she's wandering the winding tunnels under Mount Weather again.

"I told you he didn't want to see you," a familiar voice bubbles through the still air over her constantly clicking pen. Myles halts her clicking at her mother's voice, "he's here, he's alive, and he didn't come to see you."

The redhead turns slowly to face her mother, breathing out, "you're not real."

"Aren't I?" The auburn haired woman asks, pulling her mouth down into a frown sarcastically.

Myles clicks the pen a few more times, haltingly, as she stares at her mother, not knowing if she should want or be fearful of the woman disappearing. She doesn't vanish though, instead standing there patiently and looking imploringly at her. Hazel eyes tear away from her mother's piercing gaze to look down the empty metal hallways again, almost everything is the same shade of grey she'd spent her whole life looking at. The red haired teen can't remember where she was brought in or what they passed on their way, nothing she sees seems familiar. Was she awake when they brought her in?

"This way," her mother calls, and when long, red hair whips around her mother is nowhere to be seen.

Her right hand comes up to run through her hair, feeling that her slightly damp, long locks have been washed and brushed. Red wavy hair flows down just past her ass, brushing against her hands as they fall limp at her sides again. Hesitantly, Myles steps forward to walk towards where her mothers voice came from. Turning her head to look down a hallway, the redhead stops as she stares at her mother.

Pushing off of a wall, Myles' mother saunters down the deserted Alpha Station hallway before twisting around to face her daughter, "are you coming?"

Swallowing roughly, red hair swings heavily as the redhead looks around, "what makes you think this is the right way?"

"I'm you, remember?" The woman taunts lightly, raising an auburn eyebrow.

Myles recognises that look, it's a challenge. Licking her dry lips anxiously, the teen starts clicking her pen again as she follows her mother down the hallway. It's not until she recognises a turn that the woman turns down that she halts again.

Digging in her heels, ice runs through Myles' veins, "Why are you taking me to dads office?"

"So you do remember how to get around," her mother sneers, spinning around to face the teen.

"I don't want to go there," the red haired teens voice comes out shaky as she clicks her pen incessantly.

"This isn't about what you want," the woman snarks, "it's about what you deserve."

It's silent for a moment as the two stare at each other, before a loud clanging sounds from a room down the hallway behind the redhead. Red hair whips around as Myles swings her body swiftly, her heart pounding and her breathing becoming harsher at the noise. Clicking her pen rapidly, the red haired teen inches down the hallway with wide, frantic eyes. The room is easily a dozen doors down, making the teens dawdling pace feel like it takes an eternity to reach it.

Clenching her teeth together and ceases her clicking as she nears the cracked open door, Myles gently pushes it open to see a room with functioning TV screens and cluttered tables. Lamps and various different pipes, cords and mechanical parts scatter across the room, looking like the tables in the delinquents dropship on steroids. Shelves with beakers and vials of different shades of liquid sit against one wall, making the room seem small. Raven Reyes sits at a table in the room, fiddling with parts of something next to a clear board with yellow writing scribbled across it.

Raven looks up as the door is pushed open and her face brightens when she sees the redhead. Standing up and limping awkwardly around the table, a large smile spreads across her face.

"Myles!" Raven calls out happily, limping towards the teen.

A brace covers the brunettes left leg from her ankle up to her thigh, but hazel eyes only spare it a quick glance as the teen wraps her in a tight hug. Shaking hands reach up to reciprocate the hug and hazel eyes slip closed. Raven pulls back, sliding her hands up and down her shoulders lightly, the happy smile not leaving her face.

"Thank god you're okay," the brunette gushes, brown eyes scanning the redheads face and bringing her hands up to the gauze covering the holes in her temples. "They wouldn't let me into medical to see you. What the hell happened to you?"

"Are you okay?" Myles ignores her question, furrowing her red eyebrows in concern.

Something dark flashes across Ravens face for a moment, before she drops her hands down and steps back, "the bullet got stuck in my spine." Brown eyes glance everywhere but into the red haired girls hazel, "they took it out, but my leg's paralysed now."

Myles doesn't say anything, only staring at the brunette for a moment as she starts clicking her pen again. Falling forward, Myles hugs the teen tightly, desperately trying to convey how much she hopes for this to be another hallucination. Raven immediately returns the gesture, squeezing the red haired teen and making her grunt lowly in pain. As they pull apart again, brown eyes scan her body before meeting hazel eyes again.

"What the hell happened to you?" Raven questions once more, her tone soft and kind.

Lifting her right hand up to awkwardly reach the small strip of gauze taped over the burr hole in her skull, Myles tilts her head for the brunette to see. A shocked gasp cuts through the air as her hands fly up to stop the redhead from pulling the gauze off and presses the tape back down against the teens hair.

"The grounders drilled into your head?!" Raven screeches, her face screwing up in anger.

Shaking her head softly, "Mount Weather."

"Mount Weather?" The brunette quizzes, her nose scrunching up in confusion, "What the fuck is going on there?"

Myles shrugs lazily and Raven guides her to sit with her at the table, "they survived the war. Apparently it's more than a supply depot, it's a bunker." Brown eyes widen in shock at the information, "they're looking for a cure and they think we have it."

"A cure to what?" Raven enquires strongly as she reaches for a water-skin, her appalled facial expression only deepening the more the raspy girl talks.

"Thanks," Myles takes the offered water bottle gratefully and gulps the cool liquid down greedily as it soothes her dry throat. She's not quite sure why she feels so comfortable talking, but something itching at the back of her brain tells her that at least one person should know before she takes off. "Radiation," brown eyes bulge at the answer, "we grew up surrounded by solar radiation, the grounders evolved. The mountain men didn't."

"So, What…" the brunette fumbles angrily, "they took pieces of you to experiment with?" Myles only hums in response, leaning back to rest her head against the wall as her left arm shakes. Raven heaves a heavy sigh, slamming her fist on the table, "…fucking – torturing 'mountain men', grounder armies who want our heads, mutiny's on the Ark, being shot by our own people – What the fuck have we got ourselves into?"

Myles does answer her, knowing the question is rhetorical. Instead, the red haired teen holds up the pen shakily. Raven turns slightly and looks at it, furrowing her eyebrows and locking her brown gaze on hazel.

"A pen?" The brunette questions tiredly, an exasperated look on her face. Myles hums an affirmative and clicks the pen several times as a demonstration, before tossing it at the teen. Raven picks it up from her lap and clicks it a few times, "this is what you do?" The redhead shrugs against the wall, tearing her gaze away from the mechanics in front of her, "Why are you even up at this hour, anyway?"

Red eyebrows draw together in confusion, "what's the time?"

"Like," Raven huffs, "three in the morning. Aren't you tired?" A red brow quirks at the question, "you guys walked here from Mount Weather and you slept for maybe two hours."

Hazel makes eye contact again, before quickly shifting to stare at the wall across from them, "I don't want to sleep."

Once the words are out of her mouth, the red haired teen lifts her head slightly to drop it against the wall. A quiet thud echoes in the room and Myles repeats the action several more times before Raven stops her. Grabbing the redheads hand and slipping the pen through her fingers, sad brown eyes lock on distant hazel again.

"I think you need that more than me," the brunette says kindly, twisting around to mess with the part in front of her again.

"Is my father here?" Myles asks suddenly as she clicks her pen constantly and Ravens hands still.

"No," Raven answers honestly, turning around to face her again. "Kane made sure he was on Tesla when they came down." At Marcus' name, the pen clicking stops, "he's alive too. It was mostly workers who rebelled with Councillor Sydney that were on the Exodus ship."

Hazel eyes glaze over, facing away from the brunette as she clicks her pen again, "where are they?"

"Finn and Bellamy left with three others to go find you," Raven huffs, turning back to her task. "Kane went to try and make peace with the grounders."

It's silent between them for a few moments, the only sounds being from Myles as she bangs her head against the wall and clicks her pen. Raven participates occasionally by slipping or knocking something metallic, making a dull clanging sound that reverberates through the small room. The red haired teen is thinking hard about the things she's learned since walking into this room. Clicking her pen doesn't seem to be helping with the hallucinations, maybe this is a dream?

Grinding her teeth, Myles' head aches as she considers the possibility that this is a fake reality. A mash up of old history, past conversations and imagination. Instead of Myles falling asleep in Camp Jaha and reliving memories of Mount Weather in her dreams, this is a dream reinventing history that she has when she passes out in that mountain. Mulling this concept over, something scratches at the back of her brain and she pauses her movements to look at Raven.

At the ceasing of soft banging and clicking, brown eyes peer over her shoulder worriedly to lock on hazel.

"If it's three in the morning," Myles starts quietly, "Why are you awake?"

"I had surgery three days ago," Raven replies easily, "I'm in pain. I'll pass out when I finish this."

Red eyebrows twitch up, and the redhead straightens before standing up. Brown eyes shoot up in surprise as the red haired teen limps around the table gingerly.

"Where are you going?" The brunette enquires with brown eyebrows raised.

Myles turns her head towards the teen as she answers, "pretty sure they had some alcohol in medical, if not, I'll break into one of my old dropoffs compartments. They'll have something."

It takes a few minutes to find her way back to the makeshift medical room, and even less to locate a metal bottle of something far stronger than Monty's moonshine. With how slow Myles is going, and the amount of noise and pain her simple motions makes, the red haired teen decides against trying to break into a compartment. Instead, when she reaches the hallway to get to Raven, the girl hesitates before walking in the opposite direction.

She knows the route off by heart, only needing to blink to find herself standing in front of a door that has a clear plastic strip with 'N. MYLINSKI' written on it in thick, black marker. Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly in an attempt to curb the rapidly escalating anxiety that courses through her veins, Myles lifts a shaking hand to pull the handle. It doesn't budge, of course her dad would prioritise locking his office up as they prepare to go to Earth. The ID scanner lock on the door is clearly functional with the little electricity the solar panels provide them, and Myles huffs, hazel eyes scanning her dimly lit surroundings as she weighs her options.

Deciding _fuck_ _it_, if someone comes she'd have a case considering it's her fathers office, Myles smashes her splint covered hand down hard against the ID scanner.

"Motherfucker," Myles curses as her face screws up, her wrist throbbing in pain. The cover plate slams to the ground and exposes wires, some frayed and sparking lightly for a second from being forcibly broken off. Trying the handle again, Myles huffs in aggravation as it doesn't open. Putting the pen in her mouth and setting the alcohol down on the floor, her good hand shakily tugs at the wires. Ducking her head down to get a better look at where things go, her freed pointer finger and middle finger of her left hand carefully hold a wire up as her scraped up good hand touches another frayed wires end to it.

A high pitched beep sounds and Myles opens the door with a relieved smile on her face. The look is quickly wiped off as she enters the office. Many memories flood in, raised arms and red cheeks, sitting in the corner and crying with her lip split, venomous words flung around carelessly as he twists his belt threateningly. His desk is bare, and papers and books are strewn around on the floor, presumably coming loose on the rough descent to Earth. The chair is flipped and lying on its side by the door, hitting it as it swings open. Letting out the air in her lungs, Myles stands there for a moment before picking up the alcohol and stepping inside hesitantly.

Blank hazel eyes see the room differently, as if through glasses with memories stamped onto them. Making her way over to the desk, Myles plops the alcohol down again as she opens the third drawer down and lifts the stack of papers out. Dumping them on the floor behind her, the red haired teen shoves the miscellaneous stationary pieces to the side to pull up the false bottom of the drawer. Bingo. Instantly her hands come in contact with a small container and a cool flask.

Lifting her hand out of the drawer to take a look at the pill bottle first, the label reads 'amoxicillin – 250 mg'. Pocketing the pills and the flask, Myles reaches her hand to palm the underneath of the desk where someone would sit with their knees under. Feeling the little notch, the redhead pulls the small strip of metal off to let another small pill bottle fall out. This one reads 'OxyContin – 10 mg' and Myles sticks it into her pocket, too, before tidying up after herself.

Quickly leaving the room with everything she's scavenged, Myles shuts the door behind herself and walks back to Raven. As she enters the room, brown eyes glance up in greeting as the red haired teen limps up to her with her findings.

"Are you allergic to penicillin or oxycodone?" Myles enquires as she plops the bottle of alcohol and the flask on the desk.

"Not that I know of," Raven answers, sniffing the liquids. "Ugh, this is even stronger than Monty's."

Pulling the pills out of her pocket, "we have antibiotics and painkillers. Considering I spent however long tonight getting every cut and scrape on me drained, I'll be taking one of both."

"That's a good call," the brunette agrees, "one time won't hurt. Why the hell not?"

Dropping out a pill for herself and one for Raven from each little bottle, Myles pushes Ravens two to her before putting her own in her mouth and taking a swig of the alcohol from medical. The liquid burns, setting her throat and chest ablaze with a fire that mimics a needle prick; a sharp pang before settling into a comfortable warmth that radiates from inside. Limping back around to sit beside Raven, Myles waits for the meds to kick in when a thought occurs to her.

"You had surgery three days ago?" Myles queries after a few moments, a familiar cloudy feeling covering her mind. Raven hums an affirmative as she continues fiddling, "What day is it?"

"It's Thursday now," the brunette supplies quickly, "October 16th."

The red haired teen let's out a long breath and Raven peers over her shoulder at her, "I haven't eaten since Saturday night."

"Holy shit," Raven breathes, jumping up to pull up a bag from across the room and hand Myles some ration packs from the delinquents camp. When the redhead doesn't immediately move to grab the food, the brunette opens it and holds it up to Myles' mouth, "eat."

The red haired teen drops her pen in her lap and takes the food being offered to her, "thanks."

It's like the floodgates were opened after the first bite, the reality of how hungry she is hitting her like a tonne of bricks as she devours the contents of the small packet quickly. Brown eyes watch her before kicking the bag on the floor towards her.

"Knock yourself out," the brunette offers with shrug, "there's not many left but I don't think anyone else around here will have any food at this time of night."

It's quiet for a few moments as Myles eats and Raven works, the brunette steadily losing steam. When she can hardly keep her eyes open, she leans back as far as she can in her chair and yawns loudly.

"What are you working on?" Myles enquires, eyeing the contraption on the desk as relief washes over her at not having to argue with anymore hallucinations.

"We haven't been able to get in contact with the other Stations," Raven answers through another yawn, leaning back over the table to rub her hands over her face. "We set up a radio beacon and used a balloon to elevate it but Major Byrne shot it down. I'm trying to figure out if I can use the Lasercom system to boost the signal."

Humming a response, the redhead watches as Raven removes her brace before she lowers herself to the ground and uses her bag as a pillow. Curling up on her side, the brunette makes herself as comfortable as she can.

"Alright," Raven sighs out, tugging her red jacket tighter around herself. "I'm gonna get some shut eye."

Hazel eyes watch her blankly for a moment, before weakly asking, "can I stay here?"

"Sure," the brunette breathes tiredly, "go nuts."

Myles stays there all night, clicking her pen and gently knocking her head on the wall. Raven sleeps soundly beside her but the idea of sleep horrifies the redhead, keeping her awake. Flashes and hints of Mount Weather plague the teens mind as her eyes droop shut, and she fights to hold them open. Her mind feels numb, taunting the red haired teen with the sensation of falling.

The fight against sleep is finally ended by a tall man with dirty blonde short hair as he strides into the room. Light brown eyes meet hazel and the man halts. Lifting a hand up, he points at Myles for a moment before talking.

"Now, don't give it away," the man squints over dramatically. "But I think you've changed your hair, Raven."

A red eyebrows quirks up as hazel eyes stare at the man. Shakily, Myles raises a finger to her lips, then points to the sleeping brunette on the floor beside her. The man leans over the table and nods, sending a kind smile to the redhead.

"Wick," the dirty blonde haired man introduces himself quietly, bringing his hand up for the teen to shake.

Myles considers it briefly before shaking his hand politely, "Myles."

"Ah," Wick beams, stepping back slightly and causally striding over to another desk. "The infamous 'Ghost'. I hear you've had your hands full with rambunctious teenagers down here."

"I hear you've had your hands full with Major Byrne," the red haired teen replies as she watches the man rummage through a crate of mechanical parts.

Light brown, mischief filled eyes flick up at her, "yeah, she didn't think the beacon should be very _high_ on our list of priorities." A small smile spreads across delicate features and Wick gestures toward the sleeping brunette, "Raven have any luck with the Lasercoms?"

Shaking her head, Myles sighs heavily as Wick pulls a face and starts humming an unfamiliar tune as he spaces various parts out on the table. A strangely serious expression that doesn't seem to fit what the red haired teen has seen of his personality covers his face as he thinks. Red eyebrows dance across Myles' face as she watches the man, clicking her pen a couple of times. Light brown eyes flick up to find the red haired teen watching him.

"You any good with radios?" Wick asks as he makes his way over to the teens and picks up the radio Raven was working on.

Myles doesn't answer for a moment, just continues to watch blankly, "Beverage antenna."

"That's some good thinking, 99," the dirty blonde haired man replies halfheartedly. "But you're forgetting our small issue of limited parts." When the red haired teen doesn't say anything else, he continues, "Beverage antennas," Wick emphasises slowly, "were used for amateur shortwave listening, and longwave DXing." Myles raises red eyebrows expectantly as she waits patiently for the man to come to his senses. It's silent for a moment more before the man responds, "Yeah, Okay, but that's boring. And ugly."

"And the things you make aren't?" Ravens tired voice jibes from the floor.

"Ah, good morning to you, too," Wick jokes lightly with a smile as the brunette sits up. "I am officially outnumbered by grease-junkies now, aren't I? I'm gonna need to make some new friends."

"Her dad's a mechanical engineer," Raven grunts out as she lifts herself into the seat in front of her.

"Oh, wow," the dirty blonde haired mans face lights up sarcastically as the brunette puts her brace on her limp leg. "If a mech-a-nickel can get laid, I have hope!"

"Not with that moustache," Raven tosses back, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Red eyebrows raise at the strange tension in the room, as Wick throws a metal device onto the table. A heavy clunking is heard echoing in the room as the man raises his hands.

"What is wrong with the 'stache?" Wick demands, turning to Myles, "Mylie, help a fellow brainiac out."

Snorting obnoxiously, the redhead only raises an eyebrow tiredly at the nickname. When it becomes clear the girl isn't going to speak, the man gives in.

"You don't talk much, do ya, pipsqueak?" The dirty blonde haired man questions rhetorically. "I like that. It's respectable."

"She didn't use to be this quiet," the brunette replies quietly, worried brown eyes on her red haired friend. "Did you sleep at all last night?" Raven asks after a moment of looking into haunted hazel eyes. Myles grits her teeth together and shakes her head lightly, causing the brunette to sigh, "well, has Clarke come by yet?" Red hair pulls as it sways against the wall as she shakes her head again, "we need a plan of action. We can't let them get away with this."

"The guard will handle the grounders," Wick reassures, "all we need is to get in contact with the other Stations."

Brown eyes stare at the man as if he'd grown a second head, "do you see what the people at Mount Weather did to Myles? They didn't just grab her and Clarke, they took everyone that was in the dropship. Almost fifty teenagers. Kids."

"I'm sure Abby and Kane will go get them out," the dirty blonde haired man continues calmly as hazel eyes watch curiously. "But we need as many hands on deck as possible. There were kids on the other Stations, they need to be thought of as well."

"And if they don't get them out?" Raven pushes sternly, "if they deem the mission too dangerous without the other Stations and they leave them there?" Light brown eyes flick to the ground as he takes a deep breath in, "the other Stations could be as safe as we are here. We don't have any reason to doubt that, but we know what's going on in Mount Weather."

Sighing, light brown switches between hazel and brown eyes, "Okay, Okay. I'll bite. Say they don't go after the kids, what will we do? They'll never let us leave," Wick warns, "it's Earth, but it's still the Ark. They're following the laws in the Exodus Charter to the letter. Do you really wanna be the next one getting a public lashing?"

"They can't stop the Ghost," hazel locks on the brunettes brown as she speaks.

"The fence is electrified," Wick explains, "even if you managed to avoid the guard, you still couldn't leave."

"Yes, she can," Raven refutes, and light brown eyes turn to her quizzically. "We set it up. We can shut off a section of it."

Hearing the plan being agreed on, Myles stands and limps towards the door to leave. Raven shoots up from her seat and places a hand on her right arm to stop the redhead from leaving.

"Woah, woah," the brunette stops her, "you're injured. You should wait for Clarke."

"And Abby," Wick adds, "there's no point jumping into the jungle if the guard are gonna go out there anyway. Just, just relax for a minute."

Hazel stares imploringly into the brunettes brown eyes before letting the mechanic gently guide her back over to the chair she was sitting on. Plopping back down, Myles rests her head against the wall with a solid thump and clicks her pen a few times. The stale stillness, the lack of imminent danger, eats away at the red haired teen, making her feel jittery and anxious. A daunting sense of foreboding sits heavily in her gut, as if every second that passes the sound of the world shattering echoes louder and louder in the air.

Hours trudge past slowly, the minutes seeming to drag on as Myles clicks her pen and bangs her head on the wall. Hazel eyes lock on the tempting meds and alcohol still sitting on Ravens table, dark thoughts bouncing around in her head. The brunette makes it to her feet, a radio part in her hand and heads for the door with a crutch under her arm.

"I'm gonna go see if Sinclair has any idea how to fix the resonators in this," Raven informs the two. "I'll see if I can see Clarke yet, and then bring back whatever food they've got here."

Myles doesn't lift her gaze from the meds as she continuously bangs her head on the wall, but dirty blonde hair whips up in her peripherals.

"Tell him if he's not got anything to cut up this giant metal can for parts," Wick calls out lightheartedly, "I'll start rioting!" Raven is already out of the door before the man could finish. Furrowing his eyebrows and looking to a now-still Myles, "she's not gonna tell him that, is she?"

Rolling her head 'no' against the metal wall, the redhead barely flicks her eyes up to the man before continuing her staring contest with the inanimate objects in the room. Wick says something else but Myles can't hear it, her head is clouded in a fog that feels as if it pushing her mind from her body. Faint screams echo in her mind, sounding distant as they mesh with an incessant buzzing of a drill. Drawers and doors open and close, mine-carts creak across an old rail, animalistic grunts mingle with the voices of men and a woman.

It feels as if she's dreaming, sitting in the middle of a fantasy as the world starts to slowly seep into her consciousness. Waking her up slowly and combining her dream with reality as her mind tries desperately to cling onto something that isn't filled with pain. She can feel herself shaking, the cool metal against her head resembles the ice-cold table and the splint on her broken hand mimics the feel of the restraints holding her down. Bile rises up in her throat as nausea washes over her, and the smell of vomit reaches her nostrils.

This is different though, the rancid acidic smell is infused with metallic copper and is strikingly familiar. It's stronger than the smell had been in Mount Weather and the breath leaves Myles' lungs as she recalls exactly where she has smelt that smell before. Clicking her pen rapidly, hazel eyes screw shut as she starts banging her head on the wall again. Silently begging for it not to be what she thinks it is through shuddering breaths.

"Aren't you going to look at me?" Myles' mother demands, her voice hard as stone. Holding her breath, the red haired teen cracks an eye open as she clicks her pen, quickly wrenching it shut again as soon as she sees her mother. The auburn haired woman is covered in blood, vomit coating her chin and the front of her shirt. Her heart-shaped locket is painted in so much blood that it's hard to tell that more than just the chain is silver. "Open your eyes," the woman orders strongly, and this time Myles opens both of her eyes.

She's no longer standing in the room, but now she's slumped over Ravens table like the day she died. A deep red shade that matches her hair is spread out around her upper half, and her eyes are held open blankly, not trying to stare through her soul anymore. The room around her is slowly starting to appear more of a dull grey, their colourless compartment on the Ark bleeding over her surroundings. Clenching her teeth together hard, Myles turns her head to peek at Wick.

The man works silently, oblivious to what's happening directly in front of the redhead. Panting, panicked hazel eyes swivel back to Ravens desk to see it's exactly as the brunette haired teen had left it. Various shades of brown and dark grey colour the room, seeming even more vibrant than it had been before her mother came. With a shaky hand, Myles clicks her pen a bit slower as she takes a deep steadying breath to try and calm her racing heart as it pounds harshly against her ribcage. Lifting her head weakly to bang it against the wall again, hazel eyes stare at the place where her mothers body had recreated the day the young redhead had found her.

Movement above the table causes blank hazel eyes to lift, and Myles' head and hand halt their repetitive motions at the sight of Bellamy Blake. The dark brown haired man sags in the door frame when his deep brown eyes lock on hazel and he rushes into the room, rounding the table in the blink of an eye. Myles had stopped breathing when her gaze had landed on him, and she doesn't breathe again even as tanned muscular arms completely wrap around her skinny frame.

Bellamy lets out a strangled sob as he holds the red haired teen as close as possible, squeezing her wounded body. One of his arms lifts to cradle the back of her head and push his face into the top of her hair. His fingers skim the gauze that's taped to her hair and the man only pulls back slightly to look into her eyes. Teary deep brown match a watery smile as they spread over his cut up sharp features, his warm and gentle hands flying up to cradle her cheeks.

"I thought I lost you," Bellamy whimpers out as hazel eyes frantically switch between his deep brown, his thumbs stroking lovingly across her delicate features.

The sound of his voice has the effect of shocking the red haired teen with a shock baton, instantly flipping a switch inside of her. Violently shaking hands reach up as she stands from her seat, hooking her splint around his neck as her scraped up right hand brushes her trembling fingers across his face. Myles starts breathing again, heavy, stuttered breaths and she pulls the man flush against her again. Desperate arms hold the Blake brother as tightly as her weak body can muster, her eyes stinging as she holds them open, too afraid of losing the man again if she closes them.

Bellamy instantly wraps his arms around her again, copying her tight embrace as tears fall from hazel eyes. This time when his large, gentle hand shifts up to cradle the back of her head, he registers the gauze and tilts his head to look at her. Pulling back faintly, his kind hands shake as they delicately move her head to look at her injuries, his deep brown eyes scanning her face and landing on the gauze on her temples.

"What did they do to you?" Bellamy whispers, his voice shaky and heartbroken as his fingers brush over the marks on her face. Pulling on his neck, Myles connects their foreheads with a hard thump but neither of them care. The redhead just holds him there as she finally shuts her burning eyes. Tears pour out and the Blake brother quickly swipes his gentle fingers under her eyes, "you're okay. I've got you. You're okay."

Myles is too terrified to speak, too terrified to let him go lest he float away or vanish before her. In Mount Weather she was restrained and couldn't reach out for the man, but she's not restrained anymore. Shaking pale hands tug the Blake brother down again, crashing her lips to his clumsily, not willing to let this illusion of the man she loves disappear again without kissing him. Bellamy easily reciprocates, his soft, greedy lips not hesitating for a millisecond before he allows himself to get lost in the girl in his arms. His hands never leave her, one arm snaking down to keep her flush against him as the other grabs a gentle fist of her hair as he holds the back of her head.

The red haired teens splint stays against the back of his neck, her freed fingers grazing against the cool skinny chain of her mothers necklace as her fingers rake through his hair. Someone speaks in the room, but Myles is too lost in _Bellamy_ _Blake_ to recognise the voice or care who it is. The Blake brothers lips stutter at the sound, but he doesn't pull away. Myles does, though, but only to heave frantic breaths and hug the man close again. Bellamy rumbles in her arms as his breathy deep voice speaks, his arms never once loosening their desperate grip on the teen.

"Yeah," the Blake brother pants, planting a soft kiss against her hair and leaving his lips there, "she's okay. She's okay."

Flicking her hazel eyes up, she sees Wick is standing with Raven near the door, Octavia and a still scraped up Clarke only a step or two from the still tightly embracing couple. Clarke's blue eyes are filled to the brim with concern as she watches the red haired teen and Octavia's deep brown eyes scrutinise the teen curiously.

"You should be careful," Clarke tells Bellamy after a moment, "she's really hurt."

Instantly, the Blake brother loosens his grip and moves to pull back slightly, but Myles stays latched onto him. The redhead squeezes her eyes shut, silently begging the man to stay here with her.

"What the hell happened to her?" Octavia asks abruptly, the worried lilt in her voice causes hazel eyes to snap open again and seek her out.

"The mountain men," the blonde answers, and the arms around the red haired teen tighten slightly.

Bellamy goes to turn and face Clarke, but the redhead squeezes him tighter and starts shaking her head frantically, her eyes filling with tears again. His gentle hand slides from the back of her head to her face as he ducks his head down to lock his deep brown loving gaze on hazel.

"I'm not going anywhere," the Blake brother promises, that adoring look in his eyes again. Myles slowly loosens her grip on the man as his gentle hands caress her face, "I'm right here. It's okay."

Swallowing thickly, her viciously shaking right hand moves to thread her fingers through his as he turns to face the group behind them. If the redhead was in her right frame of mind, she's be horrified of reacting this strongly in front of other people, but she just can't bear to bring herself to be embarrassed. Instead, her hazel eyes stay on Bellamy's face as he grips her hand tightly.

"Mountain men?" Bellamy repeats hoarsely, squeezing her hand and constantly flicking his deep brown eyes to his girlfriend, as if he's worried she'll disappear. "Tell me about them."

Clarke's blue eyes jut to Myles worriedly, but the red haired teen doesn't acknowledge her. Bringing her splint covered hand up to hook around Bellamy's arm as well, as if she could stop him from vanishing if she never lets him go.

"I don't know how they got Myles," Clarke starts hesitantly, her worried gaze flicking to the redhead. "But they got us as soon as we opened the dropship door. Like they were waiting for us." Bellamy gulps, and hazel eyes tear away from staring at his face to haltingly look at Clarke as she speaks. "We heard men screaming a couple of hours after the rockets stopped firing. It had been completely silent until then."

Myles' left arm jitters against Bellamy's skin and the man looks down at her before hooking his arm around her to have her standing with her back pressed to his front. His hands come up and rub her arms softly, as if trying to warm her up.

"We left it a few more hours until we opened the door," Raven explains, "they were just… waiting there."

"They threw these metal cans at us," the blonde haired girl continues, "it let out this red mist and the second it hit us, we all passed out. I woke up in a white room, there was only one door and it was locked. Cameras were in the corners of the ceiling, and they followed every move I made. I looked through the small window on the door and there was a room straight across from mine." Clarke pauses, and looks into Myles' eyes before trudging on, "Monty was in it." The red haired teen stiffens at her best friends name, "'Mount Weather' was written on the wall beside his door."

"Wait," Octavia interrupts, "Mount Weather? As in, the supply bunker where Jasper was speared?"

"It wasn't just a supply bunker," Clarke replies, "they had turned it into a shelter before the bombs hit. People live down there, a whole society."

Bellamy must sense Myles' anxiety, and he redirects back to the teens best friend, "is Monty still there?"

"Yeah," Clarke supplies, "they all are. The rooms they put us in are containment rooms. The people there have spent so long underground with filtered air that the air we're breathing in right now is toxic to them. There's still radiation on Earth, but we're immune to it, like the grounders are."

"How is that even possible?" Octavia asks, confusion written clearly over her face.

"Solar radiation," Wick answers, "the radiation we lived with on the Ark is easily several times higher than the radiation we're breathing in now."

"The grounders evolved," the blonde haired girl explains further, "the strongest survived, and the radiation killed the weakest people. Those with higher tolerances who were able to live with the radiation passed on the gene to their children until only those strong enough to live in a radiation soaked planet were left." Blue eyes turn to Bellamys deep brown, "they keep grounders underneath their medical centre. Every time someone goes outside, or they have any contact with something that was outside, they get what they call a 'treatment'. It's a blood transfusion. They bleed the grounders dry and then toss them to the reapers who live in the tunnels around the mountain. The reapers are controlled by Mount Weather somehow, they listen to their commands."

"Why torture Myles then?" Octavia enquires, her face screwed up in anger and disgust. "If they have their treatments, why torture Myles?"

"It wasn't like what the grounders did with Murphy," Clarke replies, turning back to the redhead and her boyfriend. "They didn't want information that she could tell them. They didn't drill," Myles' left arm spasms forcefully, "into Myles' body to cause pain and get her to talk. They took pieces of her," the group look to the red haired teen with pained expressions and Bellamy squeezes the girl in his arms tightly. "Parts of her brain were dug into. Her lungs, her bones, her thyroid - they all had pieces cut out. I think Mount Weather is looking for another kind of treatment, from us, and they took as many pieces as they could before she broke out."

"How did you break out?" Octavia looks at her, dark brown eyebrows drawn as a perplexed expression covers her face.

"She won't talk," Wick informs the group as Myles only stares blankly in response to the Blake sister.

"She's hardly said a word since she's been here," Clarke adds as Bellamy kisses the top of the redheads hair, rubbing his fingers up and down her arms.

"The president of Mount Weather is pretending to let us assimilate with their community," Clarke continues, breathing heavily. "Their people have really nice clothes, really nice food, electronics that work. Art." Shaking her head exasperatedly, the blonde continues bitterly, "he told me that there were no survivors from camp, only the 48 they brought there. He said there were no survivors from any of the Ark Stations and everybody believed him. They all trust him, and I kept feeling like something was off."

"Wait," Raven interjects, "They're all drinking the koolaid?"

"Yeah," Clarke sighs, "no one listened to me. They kept saying we were safe now and everyone listened to _them_." Huffing slightly, the blonde keeps going, "I saw one of their guards come in with a bullet wound, and I knew we still had people out here. Another guard came in with radiation burns so bad you couldn't see his eyes, or if he had eyebrows. The next day he looked completely fine," shocked breaths are released from the group as they anxiously listen to the story.

"I cut my arm open when the guard went for another 'treatment' and I saw it was a blood transfusion. I followed the IV line and it led me straight to the grounders they keep Prisoner," Myles shudders, the memory of finding Clarke fresh on her mind. "That's where Myles found me."

"Myles found you?" Bellamy asks, keeping his warm arms wrapped tightly around his girlfriend. "She wasn't down there?"

"She was," the blonde corrects, "she just wasn't in the cages with the grounders. She came from another room."

"How'd she get to you?" Wick questions, an amazed look in his light brown eyes.

Clarke steps toward the red haired teen with her hands up slightly and Myles instinctively tries to back up against Bellamy's chest. Apologetic blue eyes lock on her hazel as Bellamy's arms constrict around her protectively. Gentle hands grip her wrists and hold them up for the group to see.

"The bruising and tearing around her wrists, neck and ankles are from thick metal cuffs," the blonde explains, "that's how they restrained her. I don't know if she heard me and came looking or if she just happened to break out at the right time, but she dislocated her thumb and slammed her hand against the band to break her fingers and slip her hand out."

Bellamy presses his lips to her head again and mumbles lovingly, "good girl."

"It saved her life," Clarke tells them, letting go of her friends skinny wrists.

"We need to get them out," Octavia frets, panicked eyes looking at the group urgently. "If they didn't find what they wanted from Myles, they'll just drain our people like they're grounders."

"Mum will help them," the blonde promises them, her blue eyes looking imploring at Bellamy and Myles. "She's the chancellor now, and she's having a meeting right now to discuss sending out teams to bring back Finn and Murphy and rescue our friends."

"Where?" Bellamy's gruff voice asks against the teens red hair.

Clarke hesitates for a second before tilting her head in defeat, "I'll show you, but we have to wait till they're finished."

"Like hell we will," the Blake brother snaps, moving hastily to the door with Myles' hand firmly grasped in his.

"Bellamy," Clarke calls, chasing after them, "mum knows everything already. If we interrupt their meeting, it won't do us any favours."

Bellamy spins around angrily, "you don't know that."

"Yes, I do," the blonde says sternly, staring straight into the mans eyes, "it won't get us anywhere. All it'll do is make sure we're not on the teams that they'll send out."

It's silent for a moment as the two stare stubbornly at each other. Eventually, Bellamy huffs and shakes his head.

"Fine," the Blake brother relents, his voice hoarse and furious. "We'll play by your rules."

Sagging in relief, Clarke slips in front of the couple, "follow me."

The blonde leads them to a door and the three of them anxiously await the council. Bellamy paces for a short few minutes before leaning against the wall and pulling Myles to him. They stand there, just holding each other until the Blake brother tilts his head back to look into hazel eyes. Large, gentle hands come up to cradle the red haired teens face as they hold each others gazes. Myles is having a hard time keeping her eyes from staring at the man, but Bellamy doesn't seem to mind, his deep brown eagerly meeting her glances and holding her eyes. Adoring hazel look as if they're trapped miles away, looking out through metal bars longingly.

Resting his forehead against hers gently, Myles can't help but be drawn to the angry scrapes that litter his face. Shaking fingers reach up, delicately brushing the skin around the wounds and Bellamy lifts a hand from her face to grip her wrist softly, pulling the slender fingers to his lips. The Blake brother holds her hand there for a moment before straightening and lifting his arms to reach behind his neck. His eyebrows scrunch up slightly in concentration as his fingers fumble over the clasp of her mothers necklace.

"How do you do this?" Bellamy huffs with a small smile, twisting the necklace around so he can see what he's doing. Breathing a soft laugh, pale fingers reach up to help the man remove the necklace from around his neck. "Ah-ha," the Blake brother says when it finally comes apart, bringing the jewellery between them. Lifting the locket to plant a fleeting kiss against the cool metal, a sharp pang soars through the redheads heart at the gesture. It's one she's done thousands of times, and watching Bellamy recreate it warms her chest and squeezes at her heart. "Turn around."

Myles does as she's told, using her good hand to pull her ridiculously long red hair out of the way. The cool metal swoops down in front of her face before resting against her skin, making the red haired teen feel whole for the first time since taking it off. Spinning around with a bright smile on her face, she instantly meets loving deep brown and holds the locket up to press the cool metal against her lips.

"There," Bellamy breathes softly, his gentle hand pulling her long hair over her shoulder to fiddle with it. "Just the way it should be."

After several long moments that Myles will forever hold dear in her heart, whether this be real or just another hallucination, the door to the room Abby is having a meeting in opens. Out pour a small handful of council members and Bellamy pushes off of the wall and starts to take a step towards the blonde as she waits for her mother. Hazel eyes spot the brown haired doctor before Bellamy does and the look on her face makes Myles hold a hand out, stopping the Blake brother from approaching. Deep brown eyes look questioningly at her, but he still steps back to lean in the same spot as before and watch as the awkward looking woman approaches her eagerly awaiting daughter.

"Clarke," the doctor sighs heavily, and the anxious blonde is already bursting at the seams.

"When's the team going out for Finn and Murphy?" Clarke interjects, making the crestfallen look on her mothers face deepen.

"There isn't a team going out to look for them," Abby says tiredly, but sternly, a tone that tells the redhead the decision has already been made.

"What?" Clarke blanches and Bellamy cross his arm as he huffs arrogantly. Deep brown eyes lock on unsurprised hazel, "no. You can't just cut them loose."

"Sweetheart, we don't have the manpower to send out two rescue missions," Bellamy pushes off of the wall to shift on his feet angrily. Myles watches with red eyebrows raised, taking a hesitant step towards the blonde, "and protect our camp."

"Mum," her blonde haired friend argues as Bellamy paces, and the redhead surges forward to put a hand on her arm. Myles already has a way out of the camp, but blue eyes don't even look at her as she continues going back and forth with her mother, "they're in trouble. They're either gonna get killed or they're gonna make things worse with the grounders… who we need to get our people out of Mount Weather."

At the name, Myles flinches back slightly, turning to look at her seething boyfriend. Sighing, the red haired teen steps backwards to stand beside Bellamy as he paces, knowing Clarke doesn't like listening to other people, let alone her, when she's this passionate about something.

"I know you feel this is unfair…" Abby starts and Myles rolls her eyes dramatically, crossing her arms. "But our priority has to be with Chancellor Kane if there is any hope for peace."

Myles snorts obnoxiously and Clarke knows immediately where her red haired friends mind has gone, "if you wanted peace, you shouldn't have killed the only grounder who was gonna help us."

"I'm sorry," her mother replies shortly, cutting of Clarke's tirade. "The decisions been made."

"You're sorry?" Bellamy barks out angrily as the doctor turns away and Myles instantly steps up to stand in solidarity with her boyfriend. Both Abby and Clarke spin around to look at the two with their arms crossed, "Finn and Murphy are out there looking for your daughter with guns you gave us. And now she's home, you're just going to abandon them?" Red eyebrows raise indignantly at the unimpressed doctor, "if you can't spare the guards, we know the terrain. We have a map, and The Ghost. We can do it ourselves."

"No," Abby instantly refuses, "absolutely not."

"Mum!" Clarke snaps, preparing for another argument.

"I just got you back," the doctor shouts emotionally and everything stills for a moment.

Rolling her eyes, Myles turns to Bellamy with a bored expression and the man shares her aggravation. Subtly nodding with her head back the way they came, the redhead inches forward to get Clarke's attention as Jackson rushes into the hallway.

"Abby," the man calls and Myles halts mid-step. "I'm sorry, we need you in medical."

Relieved, the red haired teen steps forward again and tugs gently on the blondes dark blue jacket sleeve. The blonde flicks her gaze to her friend and Myles nods towards Raven and Wicks room before stepping back to Bellamy.

"You better go," Clarke tells her mother bluntly, her mothers brown eyes switching between the group.

"Byrne," Abby calls and the blonde guardswoman instantly turns to attention from across the room. "No one leaves this camp."

Bellamy stiffens beside the redhead as Major Byrne answers, "yes, ma'am."

Abby storms off and Clarke turns to a seething Bellamy as Myles shifts on her feet anxiously. Hazel eyes jut towards the doctors retreating form and the blonde guardswoman across from them as Clarke approaches the two.

"What were you trying to tell me?" Clarke asks tiredly, looking downtrodden.

Hazel eyes lock on deep brown as she grips his arm before flicking her gaze towards Ravens room, willing the man not to disappear, "we're gonna need guns."

Her boyfriends eyes light up curiously as a confused expression takes over the blondes face at the redheads quietly muttered and meaningful words. Deep brown switch to blue excitedly as he tilts his head in amazement, Clarke still not quite catching on.

"I know someone who can get her hands on some," the Blake brother mumbles, gently guiding Myles towards Raven and Wick with a hand on the small of her back.

The three of them wait patiently behind a sheet of metal Raven directed them to, trying to stay out of sight from the other Arkers. Bellamy had gone and gotten his jacket back from the girl he had helped back to camp from the Factory Station wreckage, and had found one for the shivering red haired teen. Tearing a piece of her shirt off, Myles tries to tie her hair up with her good hand, the two fingers still functional on her splint covered hand fumbling uselessly to try and help make the task easier.

"Here," the Blake brother says softly the second his deep brown eyes spy the redhead struggling. "Let me do it." The man takes extra care to not jar the small chunks of gauze taped to her head, gently shifting other pieces of hair to cover it. Bellamy messes with her hair for a second before reaching his hand out for the strip of fabric, "sorry, I wish I could braid your hair."

Shaking her head softly and spinning around when he'd secured the ponytail high up on her head to avoid the drill holes, Myles smiles adoringly at the man.

"Thank you," the redhead whispers earnestly, and Bellamy brightens.

"I'm glad you're speaking again," the Blake brother tells her earnestly, lifting a hand to brush against her cheek, "I missed it. I missed you." Myles doesn't reply, just staring lovingly into deep brown, worried anything more might shatter the fantasy in front of her. Bellamy's face falls slightly when she doesn't speak again, dark brown eyebrows furrowing, "Why aren't you talking?" Red brows turn up as a sad expression covers her face, "you can tell me. It's okay."

"I love you," the red haired teen reminds the man, deciding that it's worth it to say, even if he vanishes.

Deep brown eyes light up, his hand raising to rest his forearm on her shoulder and stroke her neck, "I love you."

"I don't want this one to end," Myles whispers fearfully, misty tears filling her hazel eyes.

The Blake brother draws his eyebrows together in confusion, "what does that mean?" Tilting her head to silently plead with the man, the redhead doesn't say anything more, "nothings going to end."

"I'm scared if I speak," the red haired teen whimpers, "you'll disappear again."

"Agai – " Bellamy cuts himself off as a heartbroken look spreads across his face. "You saw me in Mount Weather?" Breathing out a stuttered sob, Myles nods her head and the Blake brother cradles her face his hands delicately, looking as if he's about to burst into tears. "I won't disappear," he promises, his voice shaky yet stern all at once, "I'm here. You can talk, I won't go away."

"They messed with my brain," Myles rasps through her tears, "I can't tell what's real and what's not anymore."

"I'm real," the Blake brother assures, pushing his forehead against hers. "I'm real. This is real. We're okay."

Huffing in relief, Myles lifts her arms up and hugs the man tightly. Bellamy's arms practically swallow the skinny girl, engulfing her in his embrace. They stay silent as they hold each other until the redhead can stop the tears from slipping out of her eyes. Pulling apart, Myles wipes at her eyes and flushes the colour of her hair in embarrassment. Gentle fingers brush against her cheek and she grabs his hand, pulling it towards her mouth.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Bellamy asks worriedly, loving deep brown eyes not having even the tiniest drops of judgment in them.

Nodding her head unconvincingly, Myles answers quietly, "I have to be."

The Blake brother opens his mouth to say something more when Raven limps around the metal sheet, a duffle-bag in hand. Dumping the bag onto a boulder in front of the small group, the brunette heaves a sigh and flicks her brown gaze to meet Bellamy's deep brown.

"Scored you a couple of extra clips," Raven tells them discreetly, unzipping the bag to give the couple access.

"Hey," Clarke greets, quickly coming up behind Raven as Bellamy and Myles take a gun from the bag and inspect them. "My mums in surgery and the team going after Kane just left. We should too."

"Did you find Octavia?" Bellamy questions as he loads his gun, but the answer doesn't come from the blonde.

"No," the Blake sister declares, marching up to the small group. "I found you. I'm not letting you leave here without me."

"Octavia – " Clarke intercepts, but the dark brown haired girl immediately arks up.

"Finn and Murphy are headed for Lincoln's village," Octavia reminds her brother, her voice oozing with confidence. "I've been there. Have you?" Flicking her head to Clarke and Myles, "have they?"

Bellamy licks his lips and ducks his head as Myles raises a delicate red eyebrow, "you done?"

"Near the Abraham Lincoln statue?" Myles enquires before the Blake sister can say another word and two pairs of deep brown eyes lock on her hazel, "I know where Lilo's village is."

Octavia freezes, a look of fear flashing across her features as her eyes switch between the couple, "Bell, I need to go."

Myles turns to face the blonde and lifts her good hand up. Clarke passes two bags to her and the redhead hands one of them to Octavia, slipping the other over Bellamy's arm.

"What's this?" Octavia asks, looking almost bored at the conversation.

Bellamy smiles and sends an affectionate look to his sister, "your pack." Grabbing the extra clips from the duffle bag and zipping them up into his own pack, "you two can lead the way."

Hazel eyes wink at the Blake sister as she steps forward to stand beside her before shooting a look towards Raven. Octavia instantly leaps forward, making a move for the fence and Myles' hand clamps down on her arm to halt her. Straight brown hair whips around as Raven pipes up.

"Woah," the mechanic warns, lifting her crutch up to the fence. "Not so fast, Pocahontas."

Touching the wire with her walking stick, Octavia jumps slightly as a loud shock sounds, white sparks flying from the fence. Panicked deep brown eyes whip around to see if the guards by the gate heard the noise as Clarke rounds on Raven.

"I thought you said it was handled," the blonde demands quietly, levelling the brunette with a pointed look.

"It is," Raven replies simply, leaning down to pull a walkie-talkie from where it sits hooked onto her pants. "Shut her down, Wick." It's silent for a brief moment before the radio beeps back and Raven inches forward to touch her crutch on the wire again. Nothing happens, the electric fence has been successfully turned off, "handled."

Myles doesn't waste any more time, ducking down and slinking quickly out of the fence, taking care not to shift the wires too much. The second she's out of the camp, a huge weight lifts from her chest that the red haired teen hadn't even noticed was sitting on her and slowly suffocating her. Slipping forward to blend in with the long green grass and tall trees in front of them seamlessly, Myles ignores the sharp pangs that shoot through her legs and chest at her swift movements. Her ears perk up as she hears the group following her lead, and hazel eyes swing around to keep her attention on the guards.

One by one, everyone but Raven slips through the wires and comes to stand with her, hidden from the guards sight. When all four of them are together, Myles and Octavia both surge forward in the direction of the huge statue by one of the grounders villages. Night falls after a couple of hours, the group barely half way to the grounders village when Clarke decides Myles' limp is getting too sloppy and they need to stop. Bellamy readily agrees, already dumping his pack on the ground and gathering wood as Octavia demands to keep going. The redhead doesn't stop until her blonde haired friend jogs in front of her and gently spins her around.

Myles is shivering as the cold night air chills her skinny frame to the bone and Bellamy pulls her to sit in his lap, wrapping his jacket-clad and secure arms around her as if he could protect her from the world. Her right hand traces mindless patterns on the back of his hand, cherishing the feeling of his dark brown curls pressed to her wavy red hair and his warm breath against her neck. Octavia sleeps across from them, her pack under her head as she lies peacefully on the ground. Hazel eyes turn from the dark brown haired girl in front of her to the sleeping blonde to her left, paranoid eyes making sure she's still there.

"You should sleep, too," the Blake brother mumbles against her neck. Myles can't help the violent jittering of her left arm at the suggestion, and turns her head to look up at the man behind her. "I won't go anywhere."

Bellamy shifts his arms so the redhead is half lying across him instead of sitting between his legs, keeping his deep brown on her hazel in a silent promise. She knows he won't go anywhere, but the red haired teen is more worried about what will happen if she leaves herself, and, more importantly, what that'll mean for the Blake brother. Deep brown stay locked on her hazel, as if he knows she's thinking about leaving and tearing his gaze away would make her evaporate into thin air.

Time moves strangely, as if this moment is lasting forever and burning up to nothing at the same time, slipping through her slender fingers. The red haired teen isn't even tired, refusing to admit defeat as she keeps her hazel eyes wide open and aware of her surroundings.

"I thought I lost you," Bellamy starts, his voice thick with emotion and his dark brown eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

"Thank you," Myles whispers, gently reaching her good hand up. She brushes her pale fingers across his sharp features and Bellamy turns his head into her hand, as if chasing the feeling. "For not dying."

Leaning up, the redhead gently presses her lips to his, kissing him sweetly. They both fall into a world where only they exist, using soft lips and light touches to speak needy words the English language couldn't possibly convey. Barely pulling apart to breathe, they pant greedy hot breaths into each other's open mouths, and lean their warm foreheads together.

"I hope you don't plan on thanking Finn," the Blake brother quips in a hushed whisper, his deep brown eyes sparkling in the firelight.

Myles' bright giggle flutters through the dark early morning, making the stars and the moon look dull in comparison. All of the moonrise's and gorgeous stars they grew up surrounded by and the blinding colours that envelope them in the dark woods look bland and lifeless in the couples eyes, as if they were the only two things in the universe with colour and beauty. Deep brown and hazel only have eyes for each other, completely engulfed in one another.

"Oh, I do," Myles jokes as she sits up to straddle his lap, keeping her face close to his. Hooking her arms around his neck and twirling dark brown curls in her fingers, "But you're too handsome to just let off with a simple thank you."

The man perks up even more at the compliment, "you like calling me handsome, don't you?"

"Well," the redhead quirks an eyebrow, tilting her face against his teasingly and bringing her good hand to pull his lower lip down gently. "It's not everyday that you see men like you, Bellamy Blake."

A fire burns deep in his chest, "I love when you say my name like that."

With that, the Blake brother crashes his lips to hers again, tugging her legs from under her knees to pull her closer. Her left shin blasts with a blinding white pain as it comes into contact with the log they're sitting on, shooting fire up her leg and the red haired teen hisses. Bellamy stills, pulling back to stare worriedly at her legs for the cause of her pain.

"I'm sorry," the Blake brother instantly breathes out as she gingerly lifts her left leg up over the log.

Myles grunts as gentle hands pull up her baggy jeans to look at her shin, "no, it's okay. It wasn't you."

Brushing his fingers over the bandage wrapped around her lower leg, the man locks his concerned gaze on hazel as he speaks quietly, "what happened here?"

"Bone marrow, I think," the redhead answers with a shaking arm, equally as quiet as she moves to undo the bandage with her good hand. At his confused expression, she continues, "your bone marrow is the source of your blood. I think they're hoping that replacing theirs with ours will cure them of the radiation."

Hissing again and trying to keep the bandage off of the dirt, Myles lifts the gauze that sticks to her wound to show the man the large hole to the bone in her leg. Hideous deep black and purple bruising surrounds the angry and bloody wound, making Bellamy inhale sharply. His kind hands move to frame the wound without touching it, helping Myles keep the bandage clean as he inspects it. One of his hands could wrap around her shin and his fingers would touch, making her skinny leg looking like a horribly bruised pale stick in both of his hands.

"I'll fucking kill them," the Blake brother mutters angrily, furious eyes appearing glassy as they cloud over. "You shouldn't be walking."

"I'm fine," the red haired teen insists and deep brown eyes look up disbelievingly as he gently covers the wound again.

Carefully wrapping the bandage around her leg, the man shakes his head, "where else?" Seeing how upset he is, Myles hesitates, but Bellamy turns pleading eyes to her and cradles her face lovingly. "Aggie, I need – I need to know."

"Right hip," the redhead starts to list, her left arm vibrating harshly at the memories that come flooding back. Bellamy is instantly moving to try and peek at the injury, as if making sure it's been well taken care of, "chest. They did something else to my throat, and my sides."

Squeezing his eyes shut, he crashes their foreheads together, "and their goal – their reason is to make themselves immune to radiation?"

"It'd kill them," Myles whispers, causing deep brown eyes to snap open. "You only have so much bone marrow. They don't have enough of us there to do it."

"Thank god you got out," Bellamy whimpers, bringing his hands up to hold her face against his. "Thank god, thank god."

The two of them stay like that, sitting pressed together and constantly verifying that the other person is still there with hushed words and faint touches. Movement flutters in the corner of her eyes, and hazel hesitantly jut to the blonde as she stirs. Bellamy follows her gaze as Myles shifts to sit with her side against the man, not wanting to share their moment with Clarke.

Blue eyes blink open slowly, taking a moment to focus on the world around her before flinging up to the couple. The redhead smiles softly at the teen and Clarke smiles back as she breathes a heavy sigh. Bellamy turns his head to look at the fire in front of them, pressing half of his face into red hair.

"Last time I saw you," the Blake brother starts, his voice harder than it had been with Myles. "You were closing the dropship door." Bellamy looks back at Clarke as the teen tears her blue gaze away, "had to be done."

Clarke flicks her eyes back up to honest deep brown, before sitting up stiffly and stretching, "did you two get any sleep?"

Myles stays silent, but the Blake brother answers as he looks back at the redhead, "it's okay. I'll sleep when we find Finn." Deep brown eyes turn to the fire as warm hands rub up and down his girlfriends arms, "you haven't seen him, Clarke. Losing you, the others, the war, it changed him. He executed the grounder that drew us the map." Blonde eyebrows quirk up in shock, "pulled the trigger without even blinking and walked away."

The red haired teen grabs Bellamy's hand and threads her fingers between his, squeezing lightly as Clarke shakes her head in disbelief.

"That doesn't sound like Finn," the blondes shaky voice replies.

"No," Myles rasps, looking at the fire worriedly. "It doesn't."

"I saw what he was capable of…" Bellamy's angry voice vibrates through his body. "And still, I let him go with Murphy and two automatic rifles."

The redhead squeezes his hand again, "I'm sure that had to be done, too."

Deep brown eyes look down at her in surprise and he presses his lips to her head.

"We'll find them," Clarke promises, nodding to herself. "It'll be okay."

"When we got back to the dropship and no one was there…" the Blake brother grits out remorsefully. "We assumed it was the grounders."

"Of course you did," the scraped up blonde reassures, meeting the mans eyes. "You couldn't have known it was the mountain men."

"No one could have," Myles adds, ignoring how her left arm jitters at the name.

"How long until chocolate cake turns into being hung upside down," Bellamy starts, staring angrily into the fire. "Or drilled into for their blood?"

"I don't know," Clarke answers honestly as the redheads arm twitches violently from where it is trapped between herself and Bellamy. "But we don't have much time."

Bellamy's hands rub over the skinny girl again, as he responds, "Okay. First we find Finn, then our people in Mount Weather."

The three of them nod their heads and Octavia tiredly adds, "and Lincoln."

"And Lilo," Myles amends, staring into the girls deep brown eyes as she sits up abruptly.

"I think we've slept long enough," the Blake sister declares, grabbing her pack and getting ready to leave.

Myles stands gingerly and Bellamy's hands guide her up as he nods at Clarke. Bending over, the redhead picks up Bellamy's pack, tossing it to the Blake brother. The mans hand rests on the small of her back, gently making sure he's there if the red haired teen needs help. Dumping her water bottle onto the flames, Myles turns the hot logs to make sure they all wet, before leaving the damp, smouldering fire to put itself out, making sure it won't set the whole damn forest alight.

The sun hangs high in the morning sky, illuminating the Earth around them as they finally jog up to the tall statue. Octavia and Myles lead the way, before the Blake sister halts, her stuttered breathing causing the redhead to stop as well.

"This is it," Bellamy agrees, looking down at the crude map in his hands as he and Clarke slowly join the two. Myles steps in front of Octavia as her face crumples, "which way to the village?"

"South-east," the red haired teen answers, lifting her hands to hold Octavia's shoulders and pulling her in for a hug.

"O?" Bellamy's deep brown eyes watch the teen and his silent sister worriedly, his dark brown eyebrows sitting high on his forehead.

Octavia pushes Myles away gently to lift her arm up, "the reapers came from there."

Hazel meets the mans deep brown eyes as his sister breathes raggedly. Bellamy looks back at his sister as her face scrunches up and tears pour from her eyes. Reaching his hands out to turn her to him, the girl only seems to cry harder.

"I couldn't save him, Bell," the Blake sister cries and the man wraps her in his arms, hugging her tightly.

Hazel eyes lock on blue, the pale girls scraped up face looking almost dead in the morning sunlight.

"I couldn't save him," Octavia sobs, and Bellamy cradles the back of her head with his hand as he holds her close.

Bellamy is whispering almost silent words and Myles turns to give the siblings a private moment, gently tugging Clarke to walk a bit away from them. Wandering towards the east of the statue to wait for the broken-hearted girl and her brother, blue eyes turn to the redhead.

"She didn't need to come," the blonde starts quietly, "you could've led us here by yourself, you're more discreet than her."

"No," Myles refutes, turning to look at the siblings. "She needed to come, just not for the reasons she said she did."

Clarke tilts her head and smiles proudly, "and you say you're not a leader." Huffing and raising a delicate red eyebrow at the blonde, she continues, "it's good you're talking again. Have you had any more hallucinations?"

At the question, Myles' left arm shudders and her hazel eyes automatically snap to the lady lingering behind the siblings. The auburn haired woman has been following them since they'd left their makeshift camp hours ago, never straying from the red haired teens sight. Clarke tenses at the subconscious motion, and Myles heaves a heavy sigh as she turns her embarrassed gaze back to the blonde. Lifting the heart-shaped locket around her neck, Myles rubs her thumb over the cool metal subtly.

"Who is it?" Clarke asks gently, blue eyes flicking to the place hazel had as if she, too, could see what the redhead sees.

Hesitating, Myles shifts her gaze around awkwardly, "my mum." Blue eyes lock on hazel, a soft but questioning glance posing silent questions. "She's dead."

Clarke nods her head in understanding, "I'm sorry. I wish you she could really be here with you."

"No," the red haired teen murmurs as she drops the necklace against the skin of her chest. "I don't think she'd like that."

"I promise you, Aggie," the blonde says earnestly, "she'd want to be here."

Locking her blank gaze on blue, images of her mothers body flashes behind hazel eyes, "she killed herself. She didn't want to be here."

The revelation stuns the blonde, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly as she tries to think of what to say. She's spared from having to figure it out as the loud blasting of an automatic rifle stutters through the quiet woods, silencing the wildlife and sending birds flying away from the village in the distance. Clarke tenses but Myles sprints forward, not checking to see if anyone is following her panicked strides.

It's silent again as the red haired teen tramples noisily through the woods, desperately trying to reach where the gunfire had stopped. Somewhere a ways behind her, three sets of boots stamp through the greenery as the group follows her. A small voice in the back of her head itches, telling her that she's still imagining things and there's probably no gunfire, but Myles ignores it, deciding that it's worth the risk. Indistinct shouts erupt, the panicked cries floating through the morning forest a second before more gunshots blare.

This round, too, is only a short burst, stopping after a few seconds but it does nothing to curb the twisting pull of dread in Myles' gut. Every time that trigger pulls and doesn't instantly stop, it proves that it isn't a misfire, but another person dead. Another short burst booms as Myles breaks through the tree-line, weaving through small, empty structures as her hazel gaze lands on Murphy desperately trying to pull an armed Finn away. The spacewalker stands in front of a small pen, easily more than thirty grounders squished in and crying out in fear.

"Finn!" Murphy shouts out as he yanks the teens sleeve, "we need to go!"

The brown haired teen doesn't answer, a detached, murderous gleam in his brown eyes as he watches the grounders try to flee. Murphy continues to shout words that Finn ignores, trying to step in front of the no longer firing gun.

"Finn!" Myles screams at the top of her lungs as she barrels towards them, but only Murphy's pleading eyes turn to her as her boots crash against the sloppy mud.

Finn moves to step back, his gaze still firmly locked on the people in the pen as one of the men hops the fence to stand protectively in front of his people. The brown haired teen catches the movement, and he stills, raising his gun once more.

"No, Finn!" Murphy screams, "stop!"

The spacewalker doesn't listen as he pulls the trigger again and Myles stops her sprinting to leap forward, tackling the teen. The two of them land solidly on the moist mud with a thick splash, the rifle falling from the brown haired teens hands. Kicking her leg out, Myles flings the weapon towards Murphy's feet as the teen stands shocked above them. Finns face is angry, his teeth bared in animalistic fury as his eyebrows sit low, covering the skin above his eyes. Something sparks inside of him, his hands raising up to try to punch and shove the redhead off of him.

"Hey, spacewalker!" Myles shouts and recognition flashes in his brown eyes as his hands still. The brown haired teen pants underneath of her, "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"I tried to stop him," Murphy whimpers out, sounding striking similar to the day his dad died.

"I know Johnny," the red haired teen huffs out, not moving off of Finn. "I saw," her hazel gaze doesn't leave Finns rabid looking brown as she tosses her jacket off of her shoulders and throws it towards the teen, "help the injured."

Murphy drops his gun and she can hear him move to do as he was told. Finn continues to pant and tries to push Myles off of him. The injured redhead doesn't budge, the sounds of traumatised and despair filled screams echoing around her stopping her from letting the unhinged teen up.

"What are you doing?" Finn demands angrily, "I saved you!"

The sheer absurdity of it sends white, hot fury through the teen, "You almost killed me!"

Outrage covers his face, his dark brown eyebrows scrunching up as rage takes over the teens angrily shaking body. Flinging his hand up to slam into the side of Myles' head as he kicks his leg up to crash his knee into the redheads stomach forcefully. The red haired teen goes flying back with a pained screech as Murphy turns to them.

"Hey!" Murphy shouts angrily as Finn moves to stand up. "Don't fucking touch her!"

Myles breathes haggardly as she tries to roll over, feeling thick mud cover her shoulders as blood gushes from the stitches on her lower abdomen. The redhead freezes when her eyes land on a dying teenager on the ground near her as Finn stills beside a shouting Murphy. Movement from up above alerts the red haired teen that Clarke, Bellamy and Octavia have finally made their way to them, but the injured girls attention is stuck on the wounded grounders.

Crawling forward with pained squeaks, the redhead can't make it to her feet to reach the wounded teen, only managing to clamber forward in the mud. Bellamy, Clarke and Octavia have stopped at the sight before them, not moving forward to join Myles as she slips up to her knees awkwardly. A grounder with long hair braided back and tattoos on his face hops the short fence to hold the dying teen with desperate grunts, turning him over to lay him on his back. The teen is only young, looking barely fifteen. His black hair is also long, braided back in several braids as his glassy dark brown eyes remain open.

Octavia comes up behind the two huddled over the teens body as Myles presses both of her muddy and shaking hands down one of the many bullets wounds scattered over his torso. The man cradles the teen, his desperate hands holding his face and the redheads heart breaks.

"Oh, no, no, no," Myles mutters thickly, as Octavia crouches down beside her.

"Artigas," the Blake sister whispers, and the distraught mans face looks up at Finn.

Taking a short breath, Myles' shaky hand lifts to gently close the teens eyes, "yu gonplei ste odon, Artigas. I'm so sorry." The man looks into her teary hazel in shock and the teen whispers again, "I'm so sorry."** [AN: Your fight is over]**

Clarke and Bellamy slowly make their way down to the group as the grounders cower in fear. Myles can't help the boy, so she places a hand on the mans arm as she crawls towards the traumatised grounders squishing themselves against a building. Her bad arm hooks her splinted hand over her abdomen, feeling like her stomach is about to burst and her insides are going to splatter everywhere. Coming to a stop in front of the people shrinking back, Myles shakily raises her hands to show she means no harm.

"I'm sorry," the red haired teen pants, "I'm so sorry. Are any of you hurt? I'm so sorry."

Instantly, a woman with long light brown hair and tattoos covering her body reaches forward. The woman wears a beautiful blue piece of fabric, tied around her body like a dress and is covered in mud as she latches her shaking arms around the redheads mud slicked neck, hugging her as she cries sorrowfully.

"It's over," Myles whispers, hugging the sobbing woman back. "It's over. I'm so sorry. It's over, I promise."


	7. Chapter 6 - Fog of War

Myles' panicked, heavy breaths and the repetitive clicking of a pen echo around her, bouncing off of the walls of the small metal box she's in. It's the middle of the night, and the red haired teen rocks herself inside of a small vent in Alpha Station. Clarke and the redhead had spent the day before drawing maps, Myles of the tunnels and the blonde of the inside of Mount Weather. They'd gone over the maps several times with Bellamy before calling it a night early on in the evening. After not sleeping at all for the last two nights, and only managing to doze off for a couple of minutes throughout the day, the redhead was exhausted. It hadn't taken long for the girl to pass out, and it took even less time for the memories and pain to come flooding back.

She'd left the Blake brother alone in his tent in a flurry of panic almost an hour ago, and now Myles tries desperately to calm her rapidly pounding heart and hide from the flashes of white coats, large needles and drills that blind her wide hazel eyes. She's too scared to blink, keeping her eyes held wide open for as long as she can as her shaking hands cover her head protectively. Tears pour down her warm and flushed face as distressed squeaks bubble out of her, blending in with her panting breaths and incoherent mutterings.

"You're okay," Myles whispers shakily, clicking the silver pen Abby had given her days ago quickly. Images of grounders being strung upside down and drained for blood before being tossed for the reapers to feast on mingle with the shot up grounders Finn had killed two days ago. "Not real," the red haired teen whimpers, bashing her head with her hard splint several times. "Not real, Not real, Not real."

Suddenly, a loud banging sounds from the small entrance the teen had crawled in from, a white flashlight bleeding into the vent with her. Myles shrinks back, flinching her violently shaking body away from the people as she drowns slowly, her burning eyes searing at the bright light. Choking on a thick haze that no one else can see, parts of her body and mind replay Mount Weather on a loop that refuses to end. The red haired teen continues to cry as she tries to get away from Doctor Tsing and green-eyes with their flashlights, the small flickers of being transported back to their table now completely consuming her world. Nausea fills her, smothering her with a fuzzy numbness that trickles through her veins.

"Myles?" A young woman calls out softly, "Myles, it's okay. You're safe here. You know you're safe here. Will you come out for me?"

The redhead tries to shake her head wordlessly as she descends further and further into madness, her body feeling as if the life is being forcefully sucked out of her with the power of a vacuum cleaner as it trembles viciously. She just wishes people would stop saying she's _safe_, because she's _not_. How can she be safe if she's never _really_ here, when she's constantly zapping back to Mount Weather as if she never left?

Any second, her best friends could be tortured and drained for their blood. Any second, the rest of the delinquents could be tortured and drained for their blood. Any second, the grounders could retaliate for Finns horrific crime at their village. Any second, her father could walk through the gate and into Camp Jaha. Any second, Bellamy could find someone better, someone whole, someone who's hands are clean of blood.

"Hey, baby," Bellamy breathes out gently from the hole in the wall. "You're okay. What you're seeing isn't real. Can you come here to me?"

Myles doesn't acknowledge the man, just continues clicking her pen as she rocks back and forth. Warm, thick tears cascade down her delicate features as she silently begs for the pain to just _end_. Shuffling is heard from the direction the mans loving voice came from, promptly followed by the sounds of clothes brushing against the vents walls as someone crawls through to join the hyperventilating teen. Hazel eyes don't swivel around to see who it is, too terrified of seeing someone or something that isn't really there, so they stay plastered on her bare knees and the metal sheet in front of her.

"You're okay," Clarke's voice soothes from directly beside her, and Myles can see a gentle hand reach out from the corner of her eye.

The full body flinch is uncontrollable, her back crashing loudly into the constricting vent walls as her body desperately tries to avoid the blondes hands. Wide, frantic hazel still refuse to look at her face and her arm flies up to shield her body as she cowers in fear. Myles' mind is still trapped in that room, hearing the doctors shoes walking around, the drawers and door opening and closing. Cool metal bands lock tightly around her wrists, ankles and neck, she can feel them as she moves to avoid Doctor Tsings hands. She's completely unaware of what is her real surroundings and what is just a twisted fantasy dangling in front of her face, taunting her by being there, but out of reach.

"Okay," the blonde relents, holding her hands up awkwardly in the small space. "No touching. Do me a favour and show me that pen." Myles doesn't move to acknowledge the girls words, her mind overrun with panic as she continues to click the pen rapidly. "Here," Clarke reaches forward slowly, pulling the pen grasped tightly in her right hand down gently until her shaking hand is in front of unfocused hazel eyes. "Can you pull it apart for me?"

When the red haired teen doesn't answer, the blonde shifts, twisting around to look out the way she came. Concerned blue eyes turn back to her shivering form, the pants-less teen rocking back and forth as she pants harshly in the cool vent. The metal against her bare skin is cold, but her mind burns a scorching heat that cloaks her body in its panicked warmth.

"Aggie," the Blake brother calls loudly, the caring tone in his voice echoing in the cramped space, "show me that pen is real. Show me it's not in Mount Weather."

At the mans words, blank hazel eyes flick down to glance at the silver pen and Clarke instantly perks up at the sight. The red haired teen is still shaking and panting, but her left hand has paused its incessant slamming into her head. Her splint covered hand stutters on its way down to hold the pen as she pulls it apart, and blue eyes watch her fumble anxiously.

"That's it," Clarke praises as the redhead starts disassembling the object. "You're doing so good," by the time Myles has finished pulling all of the pieces apart, her breathing has calmed into a silent breathless heaving. Shaking fingers start gracelessly putting the pen back together again as the blonde speaks up, "what's this say here? What does that say?"

It takes a beat before the redheads quiet and shaky voice cracks out her answer, "'Ark Station – safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground.'"

"That's good. Come on," Clarke softly urges the trembling teen, "let's go get you a drink."

Gentle hands tug her along, pulling the red haired teen through the small vent to leave. The blondes hands leave her body as she crawls out first, and Bellamy Blake is instantly there to pull Myles the rest of the way out. His large and kind hands don't leave her as she leaves the hole in the wall, pulling her into his loving embrace the second her bare knees hit the cold Station floor. Myles reciprocates the tight hug, wrapping her quivering arms around him as he whispers soothing words into her hair, his voice battling with the sound of blood rushing in her ears.

"You're with me," the Blake brother promises, "I'm real. No one is going to hurt you. You're okay. I'm real."

Clarke hovers above the two sitting on the floor awkwardly, her worried blue eyes trying to catch wide, unseeing hazel. Crouching down, the blondes hands join Bellamy's as they rub comforting patterns over her cold body.

"I'll go to your tent," Clarke offers, "grab her some pants. I think maybe we should give sleeping a break, go get a drink and revisit the plan."

Bellamy nods wordlessly and the blonde disappears down the hallway. Turning his head to the two others standing nearby, their footfalls, too, echo until they disappear as they walk away. The couple are alone now, most of the Arkers having already gone to bed or hanging around outside in the cold winter air. Pulling back slightly, Bellamy cradles her face in his hands as he stares into her blank hazel, feeling the girl vibrate under his touch.

Brushing some long red hair from her delicate features, his fingers tap lightly on her cheek, "Hey. Look at me. Come back to me, Aggie."

Myles can see him, but she can't make her eyes focus on his blurry form in front of her. It's as if someone's holding a fuzzy film over her eyes, obstructing all of her vision and making her eyes only see in distorted, vague shapes. One of Bellamy's hands slips down to thread his fingers through hers as they hang limply by her side. The movement sends a flash of panic through the detached girl, recalling the angry illusion of her boyfriend that had kept her company in Mount Weather.

Hazel eyes zone in on the Blake brother, switching around his face rapidly as she tries to discern if he's going to hurt her or not. Soft, deep brown eyes light up as her gaze clears and moves around his face. Loving fingers stroke soothingly over her skin as she starts to feel cold and empty again, and the red haired teen desperately tries to cling onto the feeling of the mans hands to ground herself.

"That's it, baby," Bellamy murmurs adoringly, deep brown eyes never wavering from _that_ look. _That_ look, the one that holds only love and adoration, as if the girl under his hands means the whole universe to the man. "Come back to me. You're okay, I promise. I'm real. Stay with me."

"I'm sorry," Myles' broken voice crackles wetly, humiliation burning through her veins.

"No, no," the Blake brother shushes her affectionately, "you don't have anything to apologise for. You're okay."

Hazel eyes stay locked on deep brown for a moment more before she flings herself forward, latching her arms around his neck to hold the man close to her. Bellamy's arms immediately engulf her, locking around her skinny frame to keep her safe and warm as he mutters kind words into her ear between gentle kisses. They stay like that until Clarke rounds the corner behind Bellamy, and hazel eyes flick up to her blue.

The teen is still wearing the clothes her mother had put her in days ago; her dark blue shirt with three quarter length sleeves, plain jeans and her jacket. Myles is still wearing the dark grey shirt and in the blonde girls arms are their maps, her baggy black jeans and the couples jackets and boots. Bellamy must've tossed on his clothes when he realised his girlfriend had bolted, leaving his jacket and shoes behind. Clarke smiles brightly at the redhead when their eyes meet, and the blonde speeds her pace up slightly.

"Hey," Clarke calls quietly, "Here you go. Let's get you dressed before you freeze."

They don't pass many people on their way to the bar, everyone having abandoned the Space Station in favour of going to bed or traversing the camp under the beautiful night sky. Chilled air hits them as their boots step onto the dirt near the bar, soft chatter flowing from the people still awake. Gold firelight and orange lights illuminate the outside of Alpha Station, basking their darkness cloaked environment in a flickering glow. Fire-pits line the ground around the Arkers tents and the bar, keeping the inhabitants warm in the cold winter air.

Moonlight shines down on them as they make their way to the bar, Clarke and Myles plopping down at a table as Bellamy trudges up to the bartender after planting a soft kiss on the red haired teens head. Blue eyes look into avoidant hazel as guilt pumps through the redheads blood. Myles can't help how her gaze lingers on the guns the guardsmen hold as they monitor the fence that surrounds the camp protectively.

She can't stay here. She can't keep doing this. Myles can't keep waiting for her dad to show up or for Bellamy to find someone better, someone he deserves. Can't keep staying up until she passes out and waking up shortly after in a blind panic, not knowing which way is up. Myles can't keep living in this much _pain_. Flicking her haunted gaze back to her loving boyfriend as he watches her while he waits for their drinks, the man smiles adorably and Myles feels a sharp pang cut through her chest as she smiles back.

"We should ask mum to send a team out," Clarke pipes up, drawing Myles' attention. "Medical is lacking in supplies and it couldn't hurt to find something. There has to be something nearby that'll help you sleep." The red haired teens left arm jitters subconsciously at the reminder of sleep, and worried blue eyes stare at the movement, "You should talk to her." Rolling her hazel eyes and looking back at Bellamy as he picks up the three cups and carefully makes his way over to them, "the list of trigger words keeps growing. If you won't talk to her, you can talk to me."

Myles keeps her gaze on her boyfriend, smiling appreciatively and reaching her good hand out to help steady the cups as he approaches the table.

"Thanks," the red haired teen says graciously as he sets the cups down.

Dropping down into the seat beside her with a heavy sigh, "Okay, tell me again."

The redhead lifts her cup to take a small sip of the strong smelling moonshine, and Clarke pulls her map of the tunnels out to sit in the middle of the table. Myles is not a huge fan of alcohol and it's effects on people, but a couple of mouthfuls every so often have proven to help take the edge off. Warmth tingles through her chest as the burning liquid flows down her throat, almost muffling the twinge left behind from her dark thoughts.

"It's a labyrinth," Clarke sighs out, gesturing at a tunnel on the map. "We got to the dam through this tunnel," they've been over the map so many times, the route is ingrained into the teens minds and they can recall their steps vividly. "It's all connected to the mine system."

"That's our way in," Myles summarises, twisting her cup on the table mindlessly.

Deep brown eyes flick up unconvinced, "Sure, if we can get past the reapers and the mountain men. I swear to god," the Blake brother grits out, "if your mum doesn't sanction a mission soon… I'm going by myself."

"You won't be by yourself," the red haired teen promises sternly, her long hair swaying as she moves her head.

The man meets her eyes, nodding hesitantly as Clarke adds, "we've got your back. We didn't even have clothes on when we got to the tunnels, if we did it once, we can do it a – "

She cuts herself off abruptly when her blue eyes spy something behind the couple. A red eyebrow raises delicately as she and Bellamy swivel around to follow her gaze. Finn and Murphy walk out of the large space station, their eyes immediately landing on the three of them at the bar. Hazel eyes meet the brown eyes of Murphy and she smiles weakly at him before spinning back around quickly.

"Holy shit," the redhead drawls out quietly, raising her cup to her lips to hide her rapidly moving lips as she rushes out, "you've got to be kidding me."

Bellamy huffs sarcastically beside her, "I guess the inquisitions over." Bitter deep brown lock on exasperated hazel as he turns back around to ask Clarke, "how's Finn doing, anyway?"

Myles knows Clarke hasn't spoken to the spacewalker. The two have spent enough time together over the past two days to have realised and discussed their mutual avoidance of the brown haired teen. Blue eyes look down at the cup in her hands as her whole body sags, the understanding that the tired girl might not be able to avoid the boy any longer chipping away at her confident posture.

"I haven't talked to him since we got back," Clarke divulges quietly, and deep brown lock on hazel as his dark brown eyebrows quirk up. The blonde lifts her gaze up to the couple and they look back at their friend, allowing the girl to speak the words she needs to say. "I don't know what to say. He just kept shooting."

"We're at war, Clarke," Bellamy regretfully informs the teen, reaching his hand out to clasp Myles' tightly. "We've all done things."

As the words leave his mouth, Finn finally reaches their table. The boy looks awkwardly at the three and Myles winks at Murphy who hangs a small distance back, the boy wearing a relieved smirk in response.

"Hey," Finn mutters, shifting on his feet and Bellamy heaves a heavy sigh as Clarke remains silent, not even meeting the teens eyes.

"Hey," the Blake brother greets back, an almost disinterested tone in his voice. An uncomfortable silence follows as the blondes blue eyes finally look up to the spacewalkers brown. Bellamy turns to Myles and the girl stares wide eyed at her boyfriend, begging him to end this. "Next round's on us," the man offers, standing up and gently tugging the redhead up with him.

Hazel eyes lock on Clarke's blue before she moves her feet to follow Bellamy, making sure the girl will be okay if she leaves for a moment. The blonde nods subtly, and Myles allows herself to be guided up to the bartender, feeling her friends blue gaze staying on her. Tucking herself under Bellamy's arm more to press against his side, Myles squeezes his hand.

"You think she'll be okay?" The red haired teen enquires quietly as they make their way to wait at the bench.

Deep brown eyes look back at the two teens sitting in awkward silence at the table and he sighs, "she's tough." Myles hums in response, and the mans gaze turns back to her with _that_ look clear on his face. Raising his hand up to brush a couple strands of long, red hair behind her ear, his hand gently cradles her face, "you feeling better?"

The question instantly makes the redhead tense and her left arm twitch as her face flinches away slightly. Gritting her teeth together, Myles tears her hazel eyes away and she nods halfheartedly. Bellamy's kind hand slides down to tilt her chin up, stroking his fingers over her skin softly.

"You don't have to do that with me," the Blake brother tells her quietly, his eyes holding an intensity that makes her response die on her tongue.

Hazel eyes switch between his deep brown and the bartender approaches them, drawing away their attention. The hand under her chin slides down to rest on her shoulder and Myles' slender fingers catch it, holding it tightly in her hand.

"What can I get for you?" The bartender asks in a cheery voice that seems out of place for so late in the cold winter night.

"Four more, please," Bellamy requests and the man quickly turns away with an eager reply.

Myles watches the man go for a moment, feeling the Blake brothers eyes on her, "I just…" shrugging her shoulders lazily and looking at the dirt below them. "Feel really… guilty."

"For what?" Bellamy questions, the soft tone telling the teen he sincerely wants to hear what she has to say.

Flicking her eyes up to lock on his, she quickly tears them away again, "I've had worse." Myles bounces one of her legs on ground anxiously, turning around to search out the bartender, "I shouldn't be this affected."

"You should," the Blake brother refutes, gently guiding her head to look at him again. "You're allowed to be struggling. You're allowed to be affected."

"He's right, you know," Murphy's voice cuts in, interrupting the moment as he saunters up to them. "You don't have to carry the weight of everyone's misfortune," the bartender slides the four cups of alcohol to the couple, "it's time to focus on taking care of yourself."

Helping Bellamy by carrying half of the cups, Myles hands one to Murphy as they turn around. The couple stop, not continuing on to Clarke and Finn when they see the two haven't made any progress, still sitting in almost complete silence. It takes Murphy a beat to realise the two aren't following him and he spins around as Myles and Bellamy step to the side to keep out of the way of other customers. Raising his arms up in question, the Blake brother heaves a sigh.

"We're letting them talk," the man answers the silent question, and the brown haired teen spins around to look at the two awkward teens before strolling up to them.

Intrigued deep brown meets amused hazel as Murphy plops down in one of the seats at the table, immediately chatting carelessly as the two teens sit there quietly. It's obvious he's trying to lighten the mood, but the ex-lovers aren't playing, both looking incredibly irritated at the brown haired boys appearance. Myles can't tell if Clarke is saying anything from their spot, the two are only able to see the back of her, but they can see the two boys talking. Finn participates every once in a while with short bursts of words they can't hear as Murphy continues to babble away.

"It's not your fault," Myles tells the Blake sibling softly, after watching his remorseful expression for a moment. Deep brown eyes turn to loving hazel, her red eyebrows sitting high up on her forehead in concern. "What he did, that's not your burden to carry."

"I know," her boyfriend nods unconvincingly.

Reaching her splint covered hand out to brush the small strip of exposed skin of his wrist with her two moveable fingers, "stop carrying it." His features soften, falling into unkempt sorrow as he stares into her adoring eyes. Lifting her arm to hook her splint over his shoulder gently as she nods slowly, "you can let go. You don't get to bear this one."

Something stirs inside of the man, causing him to duck down and crash his lips to hers. Their sweet kiss is cut short when the sound of a chair being scraped across the dirt flutters in through the haze of quiet chatter and the whispered chirps of wildlife. Pulling apart to turn to the blonde, the couple watch as Finn hurries away into the camp cloaked by the dark night sky. Locking their eyes on each other with eyebrows raised, the couple almost turns away again when Raven quickly limps to the table, signally discreetly to the redhead.

This gets both Bellamy and Myles curious, surging forward as the brunette shoos Murphy away. Her brown eyes jut to the couple when they approach and she leans over the table as Bellamy dumps the cups down. Ravens brown eyes hold an urgent seriousness that the red haired teen has never seen so intensely on her face before and it sets the blood pumping through her veins ablaze with searing anxiety, her stomach dropping with the heavy weight of dread.

"I know why we haven't heard from any of the other Ark Stations," Raven mutters quietly, her eyes staring straight into hazel. Blonde hair shakes in the corner of her eye but it isn't until she raises a delicate red eyebrow that Raven continues, her brown eyes locked firmly on the redhead. "Mount Weather's jamming us."

"Can you show me?" Myles asks in the same hushed tone as Clarke stands suddenly beside her.

Raven doesn't answer, just turns and stalks towards Alpha Station as the three follow her closely. A large, gentle hand rests on the red haired teens lower back and they quickly march through the Arks hallways, dull shades of grey colouring their vision. The brunette leads them to the room she and Wick have set up with all of their equipment, instantly sitting in the seat at her table and moving a radio part to be clear in their sights. Hard brown eyes look up at Myles as the three lean over the table curiously.

"I tweaked the resonator and got this," Raven tells them, her words rushing out as the girl hurriedly shows them her findings.

A familiar stuttering tone floats through the air and the redhead straightens, locking her alarmed hazel on Ravens brown. It's the same quivering signal that they heard from the Exodus ships black-box, the one that jammed their navigation system and caused the devastating crash. They also heard the tone over the walkie-talkies when Monty disappeared while they were searching the woods for Clarke, Finn and Myles number 1. Myles can feel blue and deep brown eyes turn to her, but she holds the brunette haired girls gaze.

"Let me guess," the red haired teen enquires sarcastically, "it's on every frequency?"

"Yeah," Raven breathes out, "long-range communication is totally screwed. It's also why the range on our walkies sucks."

"It's the same signal Monty found on the black-box of the Exodus ship," the Blake brother murmurs as blue eyes turn to Raven and she stands up to lean over the table.

"Mount Weather crashed the Exodus ship?" Clarke questions, her voice even as she comes to the same realisation as her friends.

Raven doesn't answer, but Myles rounds the table to stand next to her and get a better look at the radio, "can you get around the signal?"

"Around it?" Raven repeats, allowing the redhead to take a look and turning her gaze to flick between Bellamy and Clarke, "no. But if I can get to the tower that broadcasts it… I can make it go boom."

"No one is going anywhere," Abby Griffin declares as she and Major Byrne barge into the room.

Bored hazel looks into arrogant deep brown, the couple silently agreeing that nothing can stop them, even if they have to dig their way out. Clarke seems to be hell-bent on trying to make her mother understand instead of placating the woman, as she instantly straightens and tries to reason with her.

"Mum," the blonde starts urgently, stepping in front of the woman. "Listen to me – "

"What do I have to do to get through to you?" Abby asks rhetorically, "you and your friends are not soldiers, and continuing to act like you are… puts lives at risk."

"You don't understand," Clarke calmly states, "Raven found something. Mount Weather is jamming our communications."

This seems to stop the woman's tirade, and the brunette in questions adds, "it's true. There could be other Ark Stations on the ground."

"And more guards," Bellamy pipes up as Myles moves to stand beside her boyfriend.

"You said we don't have enough people to fight a two-front war," the blonde says sternly. "Mum, we're already fighting one."

"The grounder retaliation for the shooting could happen at any time," Major Byrne interjects when Abby makes no further moves, only staying in her frozen position as she stares at her daughter. "And when it does, we need every available man to defend this camp."

Clarke jumps on the guardswoman's words, "so let us go."

"You're not gonna stop," Doctor Griffin enquires, "Are you?"

"Not until my friends are safe," the blonde answers without hesitating.

Bellamy, Raven and Myles stand their ground with the blue eyed girl, showing the woman that none of them are prepared to back down. Abby purses her lips together as her brown eyes scan her daughters face for a moment.

"Okay," the doctor relents, and a red eyebrow quirks as she waits for the catch. "But I'm coming with you."

Hazel eyes meet deep brown, both as shocked as the other at the woman's conditions. Raven fidgets in the redheads peripherals and both of the blondes bristle.

"Ma'am," Major Byrne argues, "I just said – "

Doctor Griffin raises her hand to tell the woman to stop talking, "it's been quiet for two days. Maybe Kane," Myles gulps and shifts on her feet as her left arm jitters, the necklace around her neck growing hot against her pale skin, "is making headway with the grounders' commander."

"Or maybe he's dead," the blonde woman rebukes harshly, making the red haired teen flinch back at the suggestion. "And they're massing against us as we speak."

"Maybe," Abby agrees, nodding her head slightly as she stares the woman down. "Which is why we need more guards."

The doctor pauses, turning back to the group in front of her as Clarke concurs, "then it's settled. We're going back to Mount Weather."

Myles meets Bellamy's eyes again, but the redhead has another idea in mind. Octavia and Lincoln play on a loop inside her head and the red haired teen couldn't have asked for a more perfect opportunity to arise for them to go searching for him. Smirking knowingly at her clueless boyfriend, she watches as his sharp features twitch, recognising the challenging look on her face.

"No guts, no glory."

The sun is hanging high in the midday sky, bathing the Earth with its beautiful pale gold glow. Hanging back behind the guards Abby brought along, Myles treads over the ground with silent footsteps beside her boyfriend and his sister. Octavia is itching to get away, it's obvious to see, but the red haired teen is waiting to get closer to the mountain first. While bringing armed guards with them had eased the redheads mind some about leaving her friends, it had also complicated their plan.

"I can't believe they let Finn come," the Blake sister mutters under her breath.

Hazel eyes jut to the teen in question, tilting her head and making her red ponytail swing, "me either."

"He's one of the best trackers they've got," Bellamy answers, and Myles raises her eyebrows without looking at the man.

"Don't forget to look up," Myles calls out for the rest of the group to hear once she spots the mountain in the distance. "The grounders use the trees."

Breathing out a long sigh, the Blake brother adds, "that's how we lost John Mbege."

Tapping her splinted hand lightly on his arm and grabbing Octavia's with her good hand, Myles slows down some. Waiting a beat to make sure the rest of the group don't catch on, the red haired teen slowly steps to the side to duck down amongst the greenery, pulling the Blake siblings with her gently. They only step forward a few more steps before Myles halts again, the sounds coming from under Octavia's boots making her heart race.

Holding her hand up to get them to stop quietly, before gesturing from the Blake sisters eyes to her own legs as she demonstrates lifting her feet higher and stepping silently on the forest floor. Both siblings take note and make a conscious effort to monitor their footfalls as they hurry towards the dam. Keeping in the tree line, the three of them jog across the dark, soggy soil to get to the cliff where the tunnels Clarke, Myles and Anya had taken led to.

It's not a surprise that they can't enter through they way they left, no openings or tunnels sit at the bottom of the of the rushing water. Staying amongst the dense trees, they step around the large mountain to search for another way in.

"According to Clarke," Myles mutters, "before the bombs, there were buildings everywhere here. I'm guessing some of them had access to the bunker."

"So we're looking for ruins," the Blake brother summarises, craning his neck around to scour the area.

"Pretty much," the red haired teen agrees, "just anything that's man-made. Let's hope that it's not completely covered and hidden by overgrowth."

"Or scavenged by grounders," Bellamy adds, his dark brown eyebrows sitting in a frown across his forehead. "The houses in the village looked like they used old bricks and metal – "

"Hey, Blake!" A mans voice calls out from behind them, the sound of three men's heavy boots jogging across the dirt reach the redheads ears. "Let's go, right now."

The group stop, and turn around to face the men with disinterested expressions. Sergeant Scott stands in front of two other guardsmen, their frustrated and impatient posture is easily mirrored by the siblings and Myles.

"In case you've forgotten," the Blake brother bites out in a hard tone. "We're not under your command."

"Don't make us do this the hard way," Sgt. Scott scrutinises the group, and the red haired teen huffs sarcastically.

"Come on, Scott," Myles appeals the guardsman firmly, her skinny frame slouching back predatorily. The redhead would be lying if she said she wasn't itching for a showdown with the guards, a twisted and sick craving to prove to herself that she can still handle them. "Forty-seven of our people are being kept as prisoners in this mountain."

The dark skinned man nods in understand, "that's why we're out here."

"Wrong," Bellamy refutes, his deep brown eyes copying hazel as they stare down the men in front of them. Octavia shifts in the red haired teens peripherals but her gaze remains steady, "you're out here to find other Stations of the Ark."

Fluttering movement heading towards them finally forces Myles' hazel eyes to glance at the ground, disrupting her challenging stance as her body deflates slightly at the sight at their feet. Hundreds of bugs and insects scatter, hurdling around them across the dirt and scrambling over sticks and stones in a blind panic. Instantly snapping her head back up to look the way they came, the thick, yellow acid fog they haven't seen in weeks barrels toward them. Trees get engulfed in the dense smog, swallowing the Earth before them whole.

"We're out here to find our friends," the Blake brother finishes his monologue, shifting on his feet to turn around.

"Bell," Octavia calls worriedly, her deep brown eyes still stuck on the bugs clambering over the dirt.

Bellamy follows her sister's gaze, his whole body tensing tightly as his mind recognises the warning signs of the acid fog. The guardsmen don't understand what's happening, or why the three they've come to collect go rigid at the scene the critters make.

"What are they doing?" Sgt. Scott asks in confusion as Myles surges forward, yanking his sleeve to throw him towards the siblings.

"Running," the Blake brother says simply as the redhead reaches for the other two men to tug them away as well.

"Acid fog," the red haired teen shouts urgently, pushing the men to move forward.

Sergeant Gallagher turns around to stare at the yellow fog and Myles shoves him hard to jolt him into action. Bellamy is in full leader mode, grabbing the men's arms as his girlfriend flings them towards him.

"We need cover," Bellamy informs the guards, "now!"

"Deploy your tents," Sgt. Scott demands but Myles freezes as her hazel eyes get caught on the boulder the bugs all sprint to, completely disappearing under a small gap at the bottom of the stone. "Let's go!"

Octavia follows the frozen girls gaze while the guards bark out orders to themselves, and Myles slips her hand discreetly inside the guards jacket, pick-pocketing the handgun holstered inside as she brushes past him. Tearing away from the man and tucking the weapon into her waistband, both teens scurry to the pull the greenery off of the strange opening to try and look inside. Bellamy's frantic shouts for the two girls fall upon deaf ears as they hurriedly fumble with the rocks.

"O! Aggie!" Bellamy screams out, "get back here!"

"Bell!" Myles calls back as the dark brown haired man sprints for them, "there's something in here."

"Maybe it's the ruins," Octavia adds as she stands up to try and pry the stone away enough to slip inside.

"Hey," her brother yells back at the guards, "over here!"

Myles jumps to her feet to shove her body against the stone, freezing and fumbling at the moss covering the large stone as something hard and blunt jabs into her side. Pulling the bright green, slimy moss off of the stone reveals a small notch in the rock. Wrapping her good hand around the handle and yanking hard, Bellamy quickly puts his hands over hers and wrenches his arms back, his tight grip pulling at her skin uncomfortably.

"I found it," the red haired teen grunts out breathlessly to Sergeant Scott when he joins them.

The dark skinned mans firm hands join the couples, "come on, pull."

"Hurry up!" Octavia shouts at the two other guards fumbling with tents behind them.

Myles' face is so scrunched up as she tries to pry the hidden door open that she can't see for a moment, her focused and strained expression blocking hazel eyes. Finally, the heavy metal door swings towards them with a loud creak, the screeching sound piercing into their panicked ears. Bellamy's large and gentle hands quickly push Myles into the dark opening before pulling Octavia in and turning to call out to the other guards. Sgt. Scott's heavy boots skid slightly over old cement as he enters the large dark room.

Breathing heavily, curious hazel eyes scan the centuries old underground structure as she turns on her flashlight, shining it over her surroundings. Dozens of rusty and old cars sit inside, lining the walls and the centre of the room as they sit side by side. It's like nothing the red haired girl has ever seen, real cars. The many cars are almost all different shapes, sizes and colours, some with strange bars over the front and on their roofs. It's strangely organised, and Myles allows herself a second to ponder what life must've been like to have this many cars driving around the Earth all at once.

"Hurry," Bellamy screams from the door, tearing the redheads attention back to the present. "Quick! Get inside!"

Myles pockets her still on flashlight and moves to stand beside Bellamy, looking out at the two guardsmen as the thick, yellow fog rapidly approaches, cloaking the world behind them. Sgt. Gallagher fumbles with his tent as Taylor sprints inside, Bellamy's and Myles' hands pulling at him as if it'll help him get inside quicker.

"Gallagher, fall in," Sgt. Scott commands urgently, coming to stand beside the couple. "Now! Let's go!"

The black haired man stands, abandoning the tents, but it's too late. As the guard barrels towards them, the yellow mist blooms around him, trapping him in the burning cloud. Sgt. Scott moves to sprint back out for his comrade, and the mans pitiful screams remind Myles of Atom. Her pale hands jut out with the Blake brothers to yank on the mans sleeve, desperately trying to save him from the same fate as Sgt. Gallagher.

"No," Bellamy shouts as Sgt. Scott starts screaming as the fog touches his skin, "it's too late."

Slamming the door shut, the group pant heavily as they recover from the days drastic turn. It's hard to see in the dark structure, their almost pitch black surroundings only being revealed by the groups white flashlights. Bellamy switches back into leader mode as Myles surges forward, pulling up her flashlight and holding it awkwardly in her two movable fingers on her left hand. The underground parking garage is so close to the mountain that it must lead to Mount Weather, and the thought keeps Myles' handgun raised, pointed in the direction of her flashlight.

"Let's go," the Blake brother orders, taking the lead beside the red haired teen.

Their breaths are still ragged and heavy as they slink forward carefully, four sets of footfalls echoing as they walk on the concrete floor. Sgt. Scott and Taylor's boots stutter as they spin their flashlights around carelessly, the bright white streams sweeping over the old vehicles and thick, grey concrete pillars. Various shades of pipes sit on the ceiling above their heads, flowing consistently all over the structure. Octavia's light flashes across some glass, making the white beam appear significantly brighter as it bounces back at them and Myles' heart twinges with panic for a second.

"Hey," Taylor demands, his green eyes locked on the redheads figure as she slips forward silently. "Where'd you get that?"

"She's the Ghost," Sgt. Scott answers, his tone exasperated. They continue to stalk between the neat rows of parked cars when the bewildered man continues, "where are we?"

His deep voice jumps back at them, echoing in the large structure as rats and bats squeak loudly. Something doesn't feel right, a heavy sense of foreboding hanging over the red haired teen as the group stops. None of them have their guns out, and when they halt their noisy footsteps, Myles doesn't slow. Instead, her silent boots tread over the hard ground as if she wasn't even there, keeping her paranoid sights set on the world around her. The redheads spooked posture must worry Octavia, because the dark brown haired teen yanks out a machete from where it had been held over her shoulder, the blade scraping sharply through the air.

"Looks like a garage," the Blake brother mutters, his deep brown eyes looking around cautiously.

Octavia grunts sarcastically, "more like a tomb."

"Let's just hope the only rotting things in here are the cars," Myles murmurs lowly, trying to make as little sound as possible. "It's wrong."

The words seem to put Bellamy on edge as well, the mans body jittering anxiously in her eyes, "look. I'm sorry about your man, but we need to find an access door to Mount Weather."

"Hey," Sgt. Scott's voice joins the Blake's as it echoes loudly in the garage. "Not so fast."

Myles shushes them harshly but Bellamy doesn't listen, "sir, that fog will keep us pinned down – "

When the Blake brother cuts off abruptly, the red haired teen swings around to point her weapon and light at the Sergeant. The dark skinned man in holding out a handgun to Bellamy, offering him the firearm with a tight expression. Deep brown eyes flick from the gun and back up to the mans eyes curiously, debating whether or not to take the bait.

"We'll split up," Sgt. Scott offers sternly, "meet back here in fifteen." The Blake brother takes the weapon as Octavia comes to stand beside Myles, her deep brown gaze scanning the area around them, "Be safe."

Her boyfriends deep brown eyes lock on her hazel and she lowers the gun from Sgt. Scott, turning on her heel at the dark brown haired mans nod. Bellamy hurries to stand with the two girls, holding his gun up in the direction of the flashlight like Myles is doing.

"Let's go," the Blake brother orders quietly, and they march forward as the guards turn sharply. "Is your hand okay?"

Myles doesn't need to look at the man to know his worried gaze is on her, and she nods her head. Every now and then, her mind will wander to Mount Weather and her left arm will tremble noticeably. It was easier to ignore when they were traversing the Earth, but with the flashlight clutched weakly in her hand, when her arm shakes it makes the white light jump around sporadically. Cockroaches and rats skitter across the concrete floor, keeping them company by fluttering in and out of their lights.

Deep brown eyes keeping flicking to her on their slow wandering, but it's not until she meets his eyes fleetingly that he speaks.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Bellamy frets, the tense air putting him on edge.

"I'll be fine," the redhead murmurs lowly, making sure her voice doesn't bounce back off of the walls. "When whoever's waiting for us pounces."

Octavia's head whips towards her, her long, straight dark brown hair flying through the air, "we're not alone?"

Two pairs of deep brown repeatedly look at the red haired teen as they inch closer to her. Myles gives a short shake of her head, wanting to keep herself ready for an attack. The heavy feeling is building in her gut, every second nothing happens giving the redhead the sensation of the world slowly closing in around her. Bellamy steps in front of the girls protectively as they continue forward slowly, their eyes searching for danger and any kind of entry-way into Mount Weather.

The Blake brother tilts his head to his girlfriend, "How do you know?"

"The walls are talking," Myles answers quietly, and the phrase causes a fidgety Octavia to glance back at her again.

"That's how grounders speak," the dark brown haired girl informs them. "They say 'the trees are listening.'"

"I don't know how to explain it," the red haired teen says lowly, whipping around as a row of cars ends abruptly and they're left in the open. "You just get a sense for it."

Keeping close to the cars against the wall, the three continue searching in the warm underground parking structure when a soft chanting is heard. It's almost like a song playing quietly in the distance, but it's a repetitive sound, only repeating the same few low notes over and over again in quick succession. All three whip around at the same time to face the direction the ominous sound is coming from. The distant, muffled calls of one of guards sound, and Myles inches towards them.

Bellamy and Octavia turn away, not having the same sense the brothers girlfriend has, and they hurry towards a door in the wall. Myles makes it several cars away before the guards screams echo loudly in the underground structure. Almost instantly, the twos flashlights swing in the direction, skimming over the redhead hastening her pace in the process. The siblings match her speedy pace, but after a few seconds the screaming stops. Squinting her eyes to peer into the darkness, Myles slows her speed slightly and taps her hands against Bellamy to follow suit.

The ominous chanting becomes clearer as they near it, revealing it to be only music playing on a loop. It's a cheery tune, humming a few notes repetitively into the darkness. Myles crouches down as the music begins to sound like its on top of them, coming to a stop behind the front of a car and fighting the urge to wipe away the sweat that drips down her forehead. Both of the siblings join her, squatting down to shine their flashlights at the area in front of them to search out the guards. When neither of the men come into sight, Bellamy calls out quietly.

"Scott," the Blake brother speaks lowly, swiping at the sheen bubbling up above his lips. Sticking his head out to peer around the car, "are you there?"

Nothing but the music answers them, playing the same tune on a loop. Inching forward to walk in her crouched position around the vehicle with her gun raised, she can feel the siblings come up close to her as she heads towards the unmoving white lights that stream across the concrete. A heavy veil falls over the three, the tense silence that the darkness screams at them drenches the sweating group in a thick haze of dread. The heat the abandoned parking structure cloaks then with makes the hair on the back of their necks stick unpleasantly to their skin.

Hazel eyes land on a guards flashlight, radio and rifle where they lay on the floor, the two men nowhere in sight. The music is even louder here, coming from somewhere very close to them. Myles only has a second to look at the ditched weapons before a heavy rustling noise sounds to their right. It's only a quiet noise, reminiscent of leaves blowing in a soft gust of wind, but to the redheads ears it might as well have been the loud blast of a gunshot. Her hands whip up, pointing her gun and light at the aged car the sounds echo behind, her stomach plummets as she sees the other guards flashlight lying abandoned on the ground in front of it.

"Bell," the Blake sister murmurs looking at the filthy car. "What was that?"

Tanned skinned hands grip the guards rifle and pick it up off of the floor. Holding the weapon means he can't hold the flashlight anymore, the firearm being so large that he needs both of his hands. Pulling her light down, Myles crawls forward slowly as Bellamy and Octavia follow, before flinging her light up to shine on the strange noises when the other side of the car comes into sight. The breath leaves all three of them as the image of two reapers eating Taylor's body is illuminated by the flashlight. Their clothes are ratty and rugged, looking torn and covered in gunk as their crazed, blood covered faces spin towards the white lights shining on them.

"Reapers," Myles whispers in warning, and the men stand, quickly barreling towards them.

The animalistic roars coming from their blood-filled mouths isn't new to the red haired teen, having heard it numerous times before in the tunnels with Clarke. Both Myles and Bellamy fire their guns at the reapers, hitting them both every time as they continue to scream and sprint at them. One falls immediately, but his friend doesn't go down easy, making it almost to their feet before collapsing from the bullets splayed into his body. Myles' heart stops when the reaper falls to the ground.

Bright red blood glistens in the white beams from her flashlight, Taylor's half-devoured torso reflecting small sparks back at her. Swinging her light down quickly to ensure both of the reapers are still down, Myles slinks forward cautiously. Her white beam of light flies around the cars and the bodies, paranoid hazel searching for any sign of Sgt. Scott's body or more reapers, knowing the crazed men travel in packs.

"O," Bellamy whispers behind her, clutching at the handgun Scott had given him, "take this."

The siblings noisy footsteps echo as they tread behind her, their paranoid gazes flicking around the parking garage nervously. Myles halts as her flashlight lands on the dead body of Sgt. Scott. Above him is another reaper, the mans hands holding a large, bloody chunk ripped from the dead guards chest. Dark green and black tattoos mark up the reapers head, flowing down his neck to his back. The red haired teen recognises them instantly.

Keeping her flashlight on the reaper, Bellamy walks into her back as she can only stare at the scene in front of her. His girlfriends still and tense stance causes both siblings to swing their weapons towards what's caught hazel eyes. Octavia freezes and Bellamy reloads, but the reaper hasn't noticed them yet. The Blake sister lowers her gun and stares at the crazed cannibal in despair.

"Don't," Myles warns Bellamy when he prepares to fire, and the reaper finally looks at them as the word leaves her mouth.

Bellamy freezes, lowering his gun in shock as he looks into Lincoln's face, white chalk covering the right side of his head in long streaks.

"It's Lincoln," Octavia breathes as she lowers her gun, the twinge of relief in her voice is strange and it echoes in Myles' head as she tries to figure what the hell she's supposed to do now. Lincoln stands slowly and the growl that vibrates from his throat is anything but human. The Blake sister doesn't back down, "Lincoln?" No recognition flashes in his cold eyes and Myles steps protectively in front of Octavia, never once lowering her weapon, "Lincoln, it's me. It's Octavia."

When the dark skinned man still doesn't come to his senses, the red haired teen decides to try, "Come on, Lilo."

Lincoln steps forward threateningly before charging, and Myles grits her teeth together. Bellamy raises his gun again, but Octavia's pleading voice stops him.

"Don't kill him," the Blake sister begs as the dark skinned man sprints at them.

The mans sights are set on the Blake sister behind her, but it's not the hopelessly in love look Myles is used to Lincoln looking at the girl with. Deciding that she can't shoot him, the redhead quickly shoves her gun into her waistband as she steps into Lincoln's attack with her left arm raised. Lincoln throws her against a concrete pillar and Bellamy shouts her name as Octavia pleads with her lover. Myles is in panic mode, clawing for anything she can use to subdue Lincoln without hurting him.

As he stalks towards her, the redhead kicks her leg up and tries to thrust him back. Lincoln grabs her leg as he stumbles and tosses her effortlessly into a car, shattering the taillights. Landing on the hard ground makes her lose her grip on her flashlight and grunt lowly as the air is knocked out of her lungs. The reaper stands over her weak body and moves to pounce on her as she scrambles backwards. A loud gunshot echoes as Octavia fires once, hitting Lincoln in the leg. Myles uses the opportunity to clamber to her feet and bash Lincoln over the head with her splint.

White, hot pain shoots through her arm and the world bursts in bombs of colours that blind the redhead. Her right arm cradles her left as a loud squeak tears from her throat. Hazel eyes don't see what becomes of Lincoln, too consumed by the agony she has put herself in as both Blake siblings grip her and tug her backwards from where she'd fallen to her knees.

"Come on," Bellamy grunts as he drags her away, Octavia's loose grip barely following his movements as she stays transfixed on Lincoln. "Get up. We need to get somewhere safe."

This gets Myles moving, the reminder that they're not out of trouble yet lifting the fog covering her mind slightly. Dizzily pounding her boots on the hard concrete beneath them, the red haired teen reaches out to haul Octavia along. The dark brown haired girl looks absolutely heartbroken and lost, a morbid sense of grief seeping from the teen as they scramble away. Bellamy leads them to a nearby car, yanking on the handle and opening the back door. He pushes Myles and Octavia inside before following them in and sitting beside them on the back seat.

Myles wraps her good arm around the Blake sister's shoulders to try and comfort the heavily breathing teen as her mind tries desperately to focus on anything besides the extreme ache in her left hand that demands her attention. Bellamy throws his arm around Octavia once he gently pulls the car door shut, his arm landing on his girlfriends and pulling his sister to him. The Blake girls face is scrunched up and staring sorrowfully at the car seats in front of them as she heaves haggard breaths, her off flashlight clutched tightly in her hands.

Hazel eyes scan her sweat glistening face in concern, lifting the hand from her shoulder to rest against her hair and stroke soothingly against her long dark brown locks. Octavia's chin quivers for a second and Bellamy tightens his hold on his sister.

"He's a reaper," the dark brown haired girl whispers in anguish, panting hard and lifting her hands in frustration.

Continuing her gentle stroking, Myles shushes her kindly, "I know, we'll figure it out."

"How's it even possible?" Octavia wheezes, her deep brown eyes locking on hazel as if the redhead had the answer. "He just looked right through me."

"It has to be some kind of mind control thing," the red haired teen mumbles in a low tone, her eyes jumping between the two pairs of deep brown staring at her. "After everything he said about the mountain men, he wouldn't have come here. He wouldn't have let them do a – "

Myles cuts herself off as a crushing sound rings out from outside of the car, all three of their heads whipping around to stare out of the cars dusty windows. Lincoln marches over the shattered car lights and into the muted white beam of one of the flashlights on the ground. As he nears the car door they entered through, the red haired teen reaches forward and tugs the Blake siblings to the floor quietly. The rough carpet of the car floor flakes off in their hands and sticks to their jeans as they try and squish themselves as far away from the car door as possible.

Reaching her splint up to cover her necklace, Myles hopes that the dust and faded light is enough to disguise the three of them with the dark grey interior of the car. Bellamy pushes Octavia against the redheads legs, but Myles can't go any further back, her shoulders touching the hard black plastic of the door behind her. The Blake brother shushes the girls, but Octavia continues her breathless pants, lips shaking in disbelief.

"How?" Octavia asks again, and Lincoln grunts loudly from directly outside of the car door.

All three tense, Myles' right hand shooting up to clamp over the dark brown haired teens mouth as Lincoln whips his head to look in the window. Thick liquid cascades down his face, but it's impossible to tell if it's spit or blood through the dusty tint of the window and the careless shadows the pitch black surroundings leave across his features. Octavia stops breathing, her hot breath no longer brushing against Myles' hand as they anxiously wait for the man to pounce. Very slowly, the red haired teen moves her hand down to rest against the butt of the handgun tucked into her waistband.

"Can he see us?" Octavia's voice is barely heard over the harsh thumping of Myles' heartbeat, and if the teen wasn't pressing against her, she wouldn't have known she'd spoken at all.

"I don't know," Bellamy answers honestly, his tensed muscles can be felt even with Octavia in between them.

Lincoln's face twitches, and his head tilts up, as if he were studying his reflection. The grunts he releases seem almost involuntary, as if he's fighting something deep inside of him. After a short moment, he scrunches up his face in disgust and he turns away, smearing his blood covered hand across the window as he walks away. Octavia's heavy panting starts up again as Myles' mind runs a million miles a minute.

He looked at his reflection as if it appalled him, does that mean there's something of Lincoln left? Can they save him?

"Shh, shh, shh," Bellamy soothes his sister quietly, "just listen to me. I'll get him back, I promise."

"How?" Octavia shudders out through silent tears, the effort to not break down into sobs making her whole body shake.

"We'll figure it out," Myles promises, looking into the girls deep brown eyes. "There's something of Lilo left, I saw it, okay? We'll help him." Hazel eyes flick up and meet Bellamy's, both of their eyes significantly more unsure than their words are. Peeking above the Blake brothers head to glance out at the white streams from the flashlights, Myles watches Lincoln walk aimlessly away from them, "Okay. I might have an idea," locking her gaze with Bellamy's, "but you're not going to like it."

His girlfriends hushed words spell trouble for the man, "distraction?"

Myles tips her head and raises red eyebrows high, allowing the one crease in her forehead to make an appearance in the helpless look. Sighing and gritting her teeth together, hazel eyes try and peer at the bodies of the two guards.

"You wouldn't happen to know if they had their shock batons," the red haired teen enquires slowly, "would you?"

"Okay," the Blake brother says quietly after a moment, "we'll wait for Lincoln to get to that dark green car over there. I'll get out first, you two go stand between the columns past Scott's body and I'll grab Taylor's shock baton. You two draw him out and I'll be ready."

The redhead instantly nods, but Octavia hesitates for a moment. Screwing her deep brown eyes shut, she pushes her hands against her pulled up knees hard before nodding her head as well. Myles kneels up, barely lifting her eyes over the top of the seats to keep her gaze on Lincoln. It's tense as they wait for their moment to strike, Myles' left arm jittering anxiously as the girl beside her takes deep, steadying breaths. Bellamy leans up, resting his hand next to his girlfriends, and hazel eyes jut to him when she feels the seat cushion dip down. Bellamy's expression is tight with his nervous energy, his whole body practically vibrating with tension as Lincoln gets closer and closer to the dark green car.

Once the dark skinned man reaches their target, Myles taps Octavia's shoulder to let her know it's time to move. They wait patiently as Bellamy slowly pulls the door handle, the car door popping open with a soft click. The old vehicle creaks lightly as the Blake brother steps out of it and crouches on the concrete floor, turning to help his sister and girlfriend exit. Pulling the door so it is almost shut, Bellamy's deep brown eyes turn to the two girls.

"You sure you're ready for this?" Bellamy worries quietly, and his sister answers with a quick nod as she turns on her flashlight. The Blake brother grits his teeth together and meets Myles' gaze, nodding his head to her, "Okay. Draw him in. I'll do the rest."

Octavia huffs out a heavy breath, and the red haired teen lifts her gun as the two slink out from behind the car slowly. As they inch into the middle of the two organised rows of cars, Octavia pulls her gun, whipping it around anxiously. The Blake sisters mouth is open as she breathes heavily, making the hairs on the back of Myles' neck prickle at the loud noise it makes.

"Lincoln?" Octavia calls loudly, her voice bouncing off of the concrete walls as she lowers her gun slightly.

Immediately, a soft clanking sounds as the someone knocks into something nearby. Both girls spin around, keeping their watchful eyes in the direction it came from and Myles steps back to give Bellamy the space he needs.

"Come on out, Lilo," Myles jibes, raising her voice to keep the man coming.

"Lincoln?" Octavia continues, "can you hear me?"

Harsh grunting echoes in the large structure, mingling with the Blake sisters booming words. Lincoln walks into the flashlights glow, his small steps shuffling across the ground noisily as he heads for them. The sight of the man makes both girls take a step back, and the motion flips a switch inside of Lincoln. His short, lazy footsteps turn into a fast power walk as he quickens his pace to reach the two girls.

"I'm sorry," Octavia whispers as her brother emerges from the shadows.

"Hey!" Bellamy shouts, flicking out the shock baton and turning it on.

Lincoln spins around to face the man, his animalistic growling not ceasing until he lunges for Bellamy. The cadet shoves the shock baton into Lincoln's neck, a loud and strangled groaning belts out of the dark skinned man as he falls to the ground with a short scream. Bellamy doesn't remove the shock baton form Lincoln's neck, holding it against his skin as the man releases loud, guttural noises and Octavia steps forward out of grief. Myles' hands quickly pull her back, neither of their eyes leaving the pained grounder.

Octavia falls back against a column, and the red haired teen follows her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tightly. Lincoln finally falls unconscious, and Bellamy instantly steps back, turning the baton off. All three of them breathe heavily, looking down at the mans slumped over form as they try and recuperate in their few seconds of peace.

"Now what?" Octavia questions breathlessly, and her brother deep brown eyes lock on hazel.

Bellamy tilts his head, "now we take him home."


	8. Chapter 7 - Long Into The Abyss

It's not the first time they've been here. Myles and Octavia sit in the top level of the dropship, their weary eyes watching a struggling reaper-version of Lincoln angrily try to break out of the bounds tying his arms to the metal walls. The position is ominously similar, both of his arms are being held spread-eagle to the walls, forcing him to stand. Breathing in deeply, Myles bounces her leg on the ground as she sits on a crate, just to _do_ something seeing as it's becoming harder and harder not to notice the consistent jitter in her left arm while they wait. The longer Bellamy is taking to get back to them, the more anxious energy both of the teens ooze.

Her mind is having trouble concentrating as her body aches, the pain becoming more and more unbearable the more time passes with nothing to distract herself from it. Lincoln's chains clinking together aggressively blends with the whirring of a drill and the voices of the doctors from Mount Weather. It's like she's stuck in a tug of war game, standing in the middle as her memories and reality fight to tear her to shreds. The longer Myles sits here, the louder the memories become, the distant sounds gradually taking over the dropship.

Crunching floats up the dropship ladder, the sound of two heavy footfalls thumping across brittle bones and the charred remains of their camp echoes loudly over the animalistic grunts coming from Lincoln and the distant buzzing of a drill. Octavia's deep brown eyes flick to her hazel as the redhead stands in alarm, the same paranoid expression mirrored on both of their faces. Bolting for the ladder, Myles grips the rung with her good hand as she rests both of her boots on the metal sides of the ladder before letting go completely. Sliding down to the bottom speedily, the red haired teen wraps her fingers around the metal again as she nears the dropship floor and slips her boot on a rung to halt herself from hitting the floor noisily.

Quickly gripping the handgun she stole from Sgt. Gallagher in her good hand, Myles softly steps off of the ladder to inch predatorily towards the parachute covering the dropship entrance. When she's a few feet from the parachute, two sets of boots stomp up the ramp and she stills. Lifting her gun and aiming it at the sheet of fabric, she waits a beat more before Bellamy and Clarke burst through it and into the dropship. Sighing heavily, Myles quickly pulls her gun down and tucks it away as she nods at them and turns to scale the ladder again.

"Aggie?" Clarke asks in confusion, her voice heard easily over the quietening noises from Mount Weather, "what the hell is going on?"

"Just climb up, princess," the Blake brother grunts below his girlfriend and someone starts to follow her up.

Her shoulder and sides twinge painfully as she steps hastily onto the top level, her eyes locking on Octavia who relaxes when she sees there's no danger. The Blake sister is still sitting against the wall with her knees pulled up to her chest, the same self-comforting position she's been in since Bellamy left. Lincoln tugs in his chains noisily but the struggling is nothing Myles isn't used to, having spent the last few hours watching him roar and groan.

A yellow medkit is placed on the levels floor as blonde hair finally appears and worried blue eyes scan the level. The reaper jolts harshly in the chains holding him up, his mouth snapping his bared teeth at Clarke as if he were an animal. Lincoln's loud grunts sound like a strange blend between a scream and a growl, the predatory roar causing an alarmed Clarke to snap her head to him as her whole body jumps. Pausing at the top of the ladder blue eyes stare in horror at the dark skinned man as Octavia flinches, shutting her eyes in grief. Sighing, Myles sits back down on the crate beside the Blake sister, silently trying to offer some moral support. Clarke clambers onto the floor, stepping off of the ladder to let Bellamy come the rest of the way up.

"It's okay," the Blake brother assures her over the rabid mans wordless shouts, "it's okay. He's been restrained."

The two leaders stay standing beside the hatch, blonde hair swaying slightly as Clarke shakes her head in dismay. Her features are soft and droopy, making the teen look exhausted as her staggered blue eyes watch the crazed man thrash in his chains, the metal clinking together sharply. Bellamys eyebrows are turned up in a worried frown, the weight and uncertainty of the situation sitting heavily on his shoulders.

"I can't believe we're back here again," Clarke mutters in disbelief, and Myles turns her head to look at the grounder.

Octavia's hollow voice asks quietly, "can you help him?"

Lincoln tilts his head up and screams loudly, his once dark brown eyes are wide, his irises appearing a muddy light brown with a bright red ring around them.

"I don't know," the blonde answers honestly, shaking her head again.

"I'm hoping it's some kind of mind control," Myles speaks up, shifting her legs to sit with one of her knees straight. "That whatever they did to him, or gave him, will wear off if he's away from it. If they can't do it again."

Blue eyes look to her concerned hazel, before Clarke slowly steps towards the man. At the blondes hesitant footsteps, Myles stands to walk with her. Her protective stance doesn't go unnoticed by the siblings or Clarke, and the blonde halts a metre away from the screeching, struggling man to lock her eyes on the redheads hazel.

"We knew Mount Weather controlled the reapers," the blonde starts, Myles' left arm shaking as the girls blue gaze flicks between her red haired friend and the reaper. "We saw them, but…"

"They're not just controlling them," the redhead corrects, turning her head to look back at the man. Her red ponytail sways heavily, brushing against the back of her shirt, "They're creating them."

"If they can do that to Lincoln," Bellamy steps forward to join them, his fearful deep brown eyes watching his sisters lover. "Do what they did to Aggie, what are they doing to our friends?"

"How are they doing it?" Clarke queries quietly, squinting at the screaming man.

Myles tilts her head and quirks a delicate red eyebrow, the same question burning in her brain. Stepping forward slightly, hazel eyes scour his body for anything that could provide an answer. The red haired teen can feel Clarke step up beside her, the blondes body pulsating her nervous hesitation into the still air of the dropship.

"Let's find out," Myles asserts, her confident posture craning forward as she stares at Lincoln's body.

His clothes are torn to shreds, his black and green tattoos poke out from the dark fabric as the veins and muscles under his skin bulge. Lincoln only seems to get more aggressive the closer she gets, and when the Blake brother shifts anxiously behind her, Myles stops slowly inching towards the reaper. A flashlight clicks on as Octavia stands, the dark brown haired girl shining it onto her lover so the groups eyes can try and gauge as much information as possible.

Lincoln halts his loud roaring and violent thrashing as his head tilts into his shoulder, exposing his neck. The dark skinned mans body trembles ferociously, his skin prickling and quivering. Red eyebrows draw together and a perplexed expression spreads across delicate features, watching the mans body shake as he grunts lowly. Is he going through withdrawal?

"He's convulsing," Clarke states, sounding as intrigued as the redhead.

"So," Octavia's worried voice bounces around behind her, "What does it mean?"

"Withdrawal?" Myles asks, hazel eyes scanning Lincoln's red-rimmed eyes.

It's silent for a moment, before the blonde speaks up again, "what happened to his leg?"

A cold shiver runs through the red haired teens body, the tension in the room escalating with every silent second. Squinting her eyes, Myles leans forward to try and see if there's any fluid in his mouth.

"I shot him," the Blake sisters rough voice answers, and Clarke spins around beside the redhead at the admission.

Lincoln ducks his head down, breathless grunts tearing from his throat as he falls limply forward against his restraints, the sheen of sweat coating his skin glistening in the flashlights white beam.

"Clarke," Bellamy interrupts whatever small moment is happening behind the red haired teen. "He's lost a lot of blood."

"This is something else," Myles whispers, her mind whirring as the dark skinned mans eyes dilate rapidly. "I think the blood loss is amplifying his withdrawal." Shuffling her feet forward slightly to get closer and lifting her splint-covered broken hand, "if only I can feel his heartbeat …"

Clarke steps forward hesitantly beside her and Lincoln screams, whipping his head up to lock his crazed eyes on the girls as he thrashes violently against the chains. Myles doesn't even flinch as Clarke jumps back in fear, the glimpse of the flexing skin on his neck stealing her attention. Tilting her head to try and get a better look, the white light coming from Octavia's flashlight barely touches the mans tensed skin.

"Clarke," Myles drawls out curiously, an eyebrow quirking in morbid fascination as her left arm trembles, "his neck."

The blonde steps close to the redhead, the warmth radiating from her body mashing with Myles' in the stale air. She can feel her blonde haired friend twist her head, her equally as captivated voice echoing slightly as it calls out.

"Can you shine the light on his neck?" Clarke requests, ducking her head down as the red haired teen juts hers forward.

Lincoln wrenches his eyes shut at the bright light, flinching back and grunting deeply. Small bruises surround tiny holes with bright red squiggly veins bursting from them, and Myles can't help the shiver that shakes through her left arm at the images that come crashing through her mind. Someone has shoved a needle into his neck repeatedly, this could be the method used to force the man to take whatever strange drug transforms him into a reaper. Hazel eyes flick to the side, meeting the knowing blue gaze of Clarke.

"Needle marks," the blonde informs the Blake siblings, turning her eyes back to the reaper.

"That's good," the redhead breathes, "if it's some kind of drug, we can get him sober. Looks the same colour as the knock-out gas."

Clarke sighs heavily, "Maybe – "

Suddenly, the chain holding Lincoln's right arm up yanks from the notch in the wall. Before she can blink, or even release the air in her lungs, the freed arm wraps around Myles' neck and cuts off her oxygen supply. Her red ponytail pulls roughly as it gets trapped between her body and Lincoln's, the crazed man trying to bring her face into his bared teeth as he snarls angrily. Desperate slender fingers try and pry his strong hold from her neck while the redhead shoves her body against his arm to get as far away from the mans rabid mouth as possible. Flinging her left hand up, Myles shoves her splint into his face and the dark skinned man locks his jaw around the hard black material, distracting him enough so that she can lift her legs up.

"Lincoln!" Octavia screeches as her brother shouts out the red haired girls name, the siblings barreling towards the interlocked two.

Hard muscles hold the panicked girl to his chest, and Myles uses the temporary distraction to her advantage. Shoving her boots against the strong arm holding her hostage, the redhead ignores the painful twinges in her body as she pushes with all her might to try and make the mans hold on her slip, but she only seems to thrust her neck into his hand. Lincoln's teeth snap together harshly as he tears his mouth away from her splint, vicious teeth and murderous red-rimmed brown eyes reel towards her face again. Myles can feel the muscles in the mans stomach clench as he leans his body down, the fingers wrapped around her neck dig into her flesh sharply and the red haired teen can't help the pathetic choking sounds that burst out of her.

The mans face is centimetres from hers when her panicked right hand abandons his to shoot forward. A pale, scraped up hand comes into Myles' cloudy sight as she grips at Lincoln's neck to hold his face away and black spots start to flood into her vision. Whacking her splinted hand against the arm that is suffocating her, both of Myles' boots kick in desperation at his shoulder and upper arm. Bellamy Blake's large and loving hands try to yank the redhead back to him and Lincoln swerves to knock Octavia across the room as she tries to help.

Bellamy's loud grunts distort and one of his hands leaves the red haired teens skinny frame to stammer in and out of her wide hazel gaze as he punches Lincoln over and over again. Her vision swims as large black chunks mesh with blinding white streaks, the redheads eyes, chest and lungs burning from her throat being squeezed shut tightly. Blonde hair whips in the corner of black and white when Lincoln spins around quickly, Bellamy's hands leaving her altogether as both he and Clarke are thrown to the ground.

Myles' sight is completely blinded with swirling bright white and complete blackness that clash together harshly, but she's still awake. The red haired teen can still hear morphed grunts and screeches stutter as they echo through the ringing in her ears, sounding as if they're getting farther away and quieter. She can still feel the scolding fire that sears through her heavy limbs as they flail dizzily, the white flashes narrowing as the darkness slowly takes over. Knowing the other three have been knocked down itches in the back of the redheads rapidly declining consciousness and her hysterical mind flashes back to all those years alone with her father on the Ark.

No one is there to help her again, and if she wants to help anyone else, she needs to _survive_. Her right leg raises and presses against her disoriented right hand, replacing her weak and slipping hold at the mans neck. Using the shaky footing, Myles kicks her left leg up to hook around Lincoln's right arm and join her other foot against his throat. The red haired girls chest thumps slowly as her once rapidly pounding heartbeat slows its tempo, her delicate features feeling like they're about to pop out of her swelling face. Applying the last shreds of her energy left, Myles' hazy mind begs her legs to thrust herself towards the hard metal floor.

The abrupt feeling of falling alerts the redhead that's shes about to pass out, but it ends suddenly with a harsh jolt. A heavy wave of nausea washes through her as she still feels like she's being choked, rolling away to press her hot face into the cold metal floor. Her own haggard gasping floods to her ears first as her whole body jerks painfully, her lungs desperately clawing for air. Blurry dark blue and grey splash into sight at the same time as a soft pressure rubs up and down her back, and wraps around her upper arm gently.

"Breathe," Bellamy's deep voice jitters through the high pitched ringing of her ears. "You're okay, Aggie, just breathe. Breathe, come on."

Myles registers the gentle pressure on her back and arm as the large and kind hands of the Blake brother when his voice breaks through the fog covering her brain. Knowing he's near and might need help, the lightheaded red haired teen brings her hands to the cool metal and tries to push herself up. White blinds her vision again as a sharp pang soars up her left arm, sending the weak, coughing and gasping teen back down to the floor hard with a strangled squeak.

"No, don't get up," Bellamy scolds kindly, his hands never ceasing their soothing motions, "breathe. Take your time, just _breathe_."

Admitting defeat, Myles listens to her boyfriends words as she pushes her face into the floor and focusses on her breathing. Another pair of gentle hands press against her neck lightly before trying to tilt her head up. Bleary hazel eyes blink, trying to get her eyes to see through the murky haze that still covers her vision. Blonde hair and pale skin is all the red haired teen can make out before the sharp pounding of her head escalates at her bright surroundings and makes her squeeze her eyes shut. Desperate gasping dies down to a loud wheeze, her breath whistling in and out of her lungs as she leans her warm face against the cool metal floor tiredly.

"She's okay," Clarke's voice states from above her, but Myles isn't ready to open her eyes yet.

Her good hand reaches out dizzily for one of the large hands rubbing against her clothes and she threads her fingers through Bellamy's. Pulling his hand close, the red haired teen holds it against her quickly rising chest as his other hand moves to stroke her hair lovingly.

"You're okay," the Blake brother repeats in a soft tone, "You're okay."

Clarke leaves from above her and the deafening clinking of chains echoes loudly throughout the dropship. She knows she needs to get up and help, blinking open her disoriented hazel eyes and flinching back when blinding bright light bursts into her vision. Gradually prying open her eyes, it takes a minute before she can focus on the bland pattern of the metal floor. Octavia and Clarke grunt from exertion somewhere behind her, but all her hazel eyes can make out is the dark grey floor and Bellamy's black jean-clad knees.

Flicking her gaze up, Myles has to squint through the dull light and her red hair to see Bellamy's worried deep brown eyes as they stare down at her lovingly. The hand she's not holding captive moves to brush the strands that have come loose during her struggle with Lincoln out of her eyes. His fingers never stop their calming strokes as he keeps his hand cradling her face.

"Is –," the wheezing girl squeaks out, her voice cracking painfully over the small word and halting her sentence.

Red brows crash into each other as Bellamy instantly shushes her, "shh. Don't try to speak."

Myles' lungs are still whistling loudly as she rolls her face into the cold floor a bit more and let's go of the Blake brothers hand to push herself up. It's a slow endeavour, even with Bellamy's hands guiding her up and not letting her crash down again as her eyes slowly adjust to the dull light in the room. It feels like there's a giant ball of fire lodged in her throat, and the red haired teen can't stop herself from repeatedly swallowing thickly. Bellamy slides her over to lean against a nearby crate, keeping her propped up as she greedily gulps down whistling breaths that don't feel like they're making it to her chest at all.

Clarke and Octavia are awkwardly strapping down an unconscious Lincoln and securing his chains again. They've laid a thick scrap of parachute over him and are crossing the chains over his body to hold him to the floor. Leaning her head against the crate heavily, her loose ponytail no longer sits high on the back of her head, but pushes uncomfortably at the nape of her neck. Rolling her hair against the crate to lock her hazel gaze on the Blake brother beside her, she connects their hands again.

"Go," Myles squeaks quietly, swallowing thickly when her voice cracks. Nodding her head at the two teens, "Help them."

His deep brown eyes flicker with hesitation as he tilts his head. Clenching his jaw, Bellamy leans forward to plant a kiss on her forehead, when Myles stops him. Lifting their joined hands up, the redhead tugs his head down to crash her lips against his quickly before shooing him towards the knocked out reaper.

"Can you check her throat?" Bellamy asks Clarke as he crouches down to take over the corner the blonde is working on.

Clarke stands and grabs Octavia's flashlight off of the ground before squatting down in front of the red haired teen.

"I'm fine," Myles squeaks out unconvincingly, and Bellamy makes an indignant sound from behind Clarke.

Blue eyes sparkle as she tilts her head to the side, "open your mouth." Hazel eyes roll but she does as she's been told, the blonde clicks on the flashlight to shine it into the girls throat. The hand that isn't holding up the light presses against the irritated skin on her neck, and the sharp pain it causes makes red eyebrows to pull together. "There's quite a bit of swelling."

"No shit," the red haired teen high-pitched voice rasps playfully, red eyebrows jumping around her face in jest.

"You should try to speak as little as possible," the blonde warns, "your vocal chords are probably bruised. Talking could tear the tissue."

Myles huffs, but the gust of air whistles slightly as it leaves her, taking whatever shreds of dignity the redhead had left with it. The blonde quickly gets to her feet and steps over to Lincoln as he lay on the floor, slowing edging back to consciousness, and crouches down again to peek at the gunshot wound in his leg. Crawling forward dizzily, the red haired teen gingerly helps her boyfriend as he secures the last chain to the floor.

"We have to stop the bleeding and get the bullet out," Clarke states, her blue gaze flying up to the couple. "Hold his leg down."

The redhead instantly inches forward to put weight on the dark skinned mans injured leg, and Lincoln starts gurgling at the pressure. Bellamy joins her after a second, and his alert deep brown gaze locks on her hazel. Lincoln's grunts and garbled growls only seem to intensify at the Blake brothers hands holding his leg down, and Octavia snaps her head to watch what the three are doing to the man from her spot beside his head. The Blake sister has a water-skin in her hand, the worried teen fussing about her lovers head as he squirms under the chains.

Octavia turns back to Lincoln, shushing him softly as he grovels. Unscrewing the cap on the water-skin, her shaky hands carefully pour the water into the mans mouth. Gritting her teeth at the sight, Myles knows the reaper won't react kindly to the gesture. Whipping his head towards the Blake sister harshly, the water-skin jolts and splashes water everywhere as Lincoln sprays the liquid from his mouth. The dark brown haired girls short, shrill scream cuts through the air in the top level of the dropship, drawing the attention of the other three.

A pang of pity shoots through the redheads heart as she sees Octavia fumble to pick up the lid, clearly upset by the mans actions. Clarke stills her hands at the commotion and Bellamy turns his eyes to the two teens beside him.

"It's okay, O," Myles squeaks out, ignoring the painful cracks in her voice and the pointed look from Clarke.

"I'll get some more," the Blake sister replies, not look up at them as she quickly flees to the hatch.

Bellamy stands up and puts his hands out to stop the girl, "O." Hazel eyes tear away from the siblings to meet Clarke's gaze, prompting the teen to continue treating Lincoln's leg. "Once the drug is out of his system he'll be okay."

"You can't protect me from this one, big brother," Octavia mutters, slipping past her brother to climb down the ladder.

Myles silently keeps her eyes on the dark brown haired man until he looks at her, "this'll work. They'll be fine."

"Stop talking," Clarke warns, flicking her eyes up fleetingly as her hands press down over Lincoln's leg. "Help hold him down. I found the bullet."

Bellamy walks back over to them and leans on the reapers leg again as the blonde digs into the flesh to hook out the bullet. Lincoln screams loudly, the wet guttural sound reverberating off of the metal dropship walls. The man thrashes, throwing his head around as he shoves against the parachute and chains holding him down. Myles' body rocks slightly from the movement, and she leans forward more to try and still the reapers leg as dark brown curls bounce in her peripherals.

"Hold him still!" Clarke reprimands, and Lincoln's strong muscles tense and twitch under their hands as he writhes.

"We are!" Bellamy snaps, raising his voice as the reaper continues to roar noisily.

Clarke pants over his leg as her face tightens in concentration, "I got it." The bloody silver bullet pushes through his torn flesh and into the blondes fingers, "I got it. I just need to stop the bleeding."

Myles shifts, reaching for one of the thick white gauze pads Clarke had brought in her medkit and pushes it hard against the wound. It doesn't take more than a few short moments for the blood flow to stop and Clarke is ready with a clean bandage a second after Myles replaces the blood coated gauze with a fresh one. The blondes hands are gentle but methodical, wrapping the bandage around Lincoln's leg as if it's second nature to the doctors daughter.

"Your mum would be proud," Myles' creaky voice burns out, feeling deep brown eyes turn to her as they stay kneeling beside Lincoln and watch Clarke work.

"My mum would know how to save him," the blonde mumbles back and Myles gingerly shifts to sit on the cool floor in the middle of the room. Clarke starts packing away the medkit, her blue gaze flicking up to meet hazel, "so would yours, you know."

Red eyebrows draw together in confusion, rolling her head lazily to lock her eyes on deep brown. The Blake brother wears a soft expression as he looks at his girlfriend, his eyes holding that loving gaze he saves for her only. Twisting her head back around as Clarke makes it to her feet, red brows quirk up playfully.

"She always was a big fa – " the red haired teen cuts her sarcastic remark off when the sounds of two people entering the dropship flutter up the ladder.

Both Bellamy and Myles stand to look at the hatch as Clarke turns away, the couple feeding off each other's nervous energy. The hatch flies open, and the familiar pulled back straight dark brown hair pops up from the ladder as Octavia steps onto the top level. She doesn't look like she's under duress, but not knowing who's behind her makes Myles' left arm jitter as her hands twitch anxiously. A familiar man steps up once she's off the ladder, the dark green and blueish tattoos on his face easily recognisable.

It's one of men from the village Finn had shot up, his long black hair is in the same braided back ponytail style as it was four days ago. He's the man that held the dead teen, Artigas, as Myles desperately tried to help. Bellamy spooks, stepping back in alarm at the sight of the grounder with his sister, instantly reaching for one of the dead guards rifles and loading it as he aims it at the man. Hazel eyes squint at the grounder but she doesn't reach for a weapon, something in her gut saying that he won't hurt them while he's outnumbered.

"Bell," Myles' weakly warns, feeling his deep brown eyes jut to her quickly.

"Don't," Octavia's firm voice instructs her brother, stepping closer to the gun pointed at him. "He's Lincoln's friend and their healer."

The Blake brother freezes at the words, and Myles tilts her head as she flicks her gaze between the two men in a standoff. Octavia's pleading eyes silently beg Bellamy to calm down as the grounder stays still, eyeing the scene cautiously.

"A friend of Lilo's is a friend of mine," the red haired teen declares, forcing her tense posture to relax.

A small, stunned smile cracks across the grounders face and he opens his mouth to say something when Lincoln starts making noise behind them again. The reaper had been quiet after Clarke had tended to his wound, but his hushed grunts have turned into a loud choking. Whipping her loose red ponytail around causes the strip of fabric Bellamy had tied there for her to go flying as she spins her head around quickly. Lincoln is convulsing again, fluid filling his mouth and choking him as his noisy growls stutter through the air.

Blonde hair appears in her vision as she slides beside the reapers head, Clarke reaches him first since she had been kneeling beside her medkit when Lincoln started seizing. Both of Myles' hands crash into Clarke's as they hastily lift one of Lincoln's shoulders to bring him onto his side as much as they can under the chains.

"He's seizing again," the blonde states, panicked blue eyes meeting alarmed hazel.

Myles hooks her splint behind Lincoln's head to turn it when they can't lift him any further, sour smelling white foam bursting from the mans lips. The hard muscles under her fingers twitch violently as the chains clink loudly, the sounds of the new mans footsteps echo into the room as the three join the two teens above Lincoln. Bellamy and Octavia crouch down by Lincoln's feet as the grounder walks around them all to squat beside his head, next to Clarke.

Curious hazel eyes look up at him as he watches and listens to his friend have a seizure, pulling out a small satchel and rolling it out on the cool metal floor. The worn brown leather is lined with small vials and glass bottles, each containing various different amounts of randomly coloured liquids. He pulls a vial with a golden-brown coloured liquid, turning it over in his hand.

"What is that?" Clarke asks, her voice hesitant as she watches the man remove the lid.

Lincoln is still thrashing and grunting as he seizes below them when the grounder holds the small vial above his convulsing head. His hand pauses with the vial as he leans over.

"Yu gonplei ste odon," the man whispers to Lincoln, and the phrase instantly sends shockwaves through Myles. **[AN: your fight is over.]**

"Stop!" Myles shouts as her pale hand shoots out to stop the drop of liquid that falls from the small bottle.

The gesture causes the mans blue eyes to turn cold as they look into hazel, pulling a dagger from his back pocket and raising it up. Bellamy bristles beside them, immediately pulling up the gun again and inching towards his girlfriend.

"Back off!" Bellamy shouts, "right now!"

Hazel eyes never waver as she holds the grounders hard eyes, "I won't let you kill him."

"What are you talking about?" Octavia's worried voice bounces around the dropship, her head fidgeting in the corner of Myles' eyes.

"Yu gonplei ste odon," the red haired teen repeats. "It's our equivalent to 'may we meet again', it's what they say before death. He's not trying to heal him."

"He's trying to kill him," Clarke realises, leaning away from the man.

Octavia's face scrunches up, a look of bitter betrayal covering her features, "Nyko." Her hard voice echoes and sends shivers down the redheads spine, "is it true?"

"Yes," the grounder, Nyko, answers, tearing his blue gaze from Myles'. Tilting his head to look at the Blake sister gives the red haired teen a clear view of his facial tattoos. A dark greenish-blue tint in the shape of a spiral with arrow points at the end covers the right side of his face, stopping under his eye and continuing above his eyebrow, "Death is the only way."

"We might be able to bring him back," Myles' croaky voice tries to reason, making Nyko's blue eyes turn back to her.

"None that I've ever seen," the grounder replies evenly, but Myles doesn't back down.

"We know _how_ they're doing it," the red haired teen rasps as footsteps pound into the dropship below them. "That gives us a head start, and I'm not going to give up on Lilo when we have a chance."

A rustling sound scales up the ladder and Nyko drops his dagger onto the ground at Myles' words, his black eyebrows twitching at the teens speech. Nyko opens his mouth to say something when a breathless Finn appears above the hatch, clambering onto the level.

"We have to go," the spacewalker declares, and Nyko's whole body tenses harshly, "the camp's leaving."

"You!" Nyko roars, standing up and leaping towards the teen.

A delicate red eyebrow raises, hazel watching the scene with an almost bored expression. Gingerly making it to her feet, Myles keeps her eyes on the two of them as Finn raises his hands to show he means no harm.

"We have to stop – " Finn is cut off by Nyko reaching him and gripping his shirt collar in his hands, shaking the teens body.

"Ripa!" Nyko shouts angrily, and Myles hastens her steps to reach them as the grounder wraps his hands around Finns throat. **[AN: murderer.]**

"Get off him!" Bellamy yells, pointing his gun at the man again.

Myles reaches a hand out to gently pat Nyko's back as his whole body shakes in rage. The grounder doesn't turn to look at her but Finns wide brown eyes swivel around the room in panic.

"You slaughtered my people," Nyko grits out, his voice filled with emotion.

"I know," Myles' voice whistles out, sliding her hand to lightly tug down on the grounders arm. Enraged blue eyes flick to look her through the corners of his eyes, "I know. Innocent people."

"Aggie," Bellamy says in warning, his deep brown eyes watching the scene warily.

"I held a child's body in my arms," the red haired teen continues on as Octavia stands up behind them.

"Nyko," the Blake sister calls out, "you're killing him."

"I know," Myles breathes out, and the mans hold loosens slightly on the teens neck as his head turns to look at her fully. "We will make this right."

"You can't," Nyko spits, turning his searing gaze back to Finn and tightening his grip as the teens flailing movements slow. "Blood must have blood!"

"Have mine," the redhead quickly interjects, and the request shocks the man to the core.

Nyko whips his head to her again as Bellamy worriedly shouts her name. Myles slips under the grounders arms to stand with her back against Finns front and her neck between Nyko's arms. Tilting her chin up to showcase her bruised throat, the mans hold loosens again on the brown haired teens neck as his blue eyes switch between her hazel.

"You even think about touching her," Bellamy threatens, stepping so close to man that the nozzle of the gun brushes against his long black braids. "I'll fucking blow your head off. Aggie, get over here."

"Bellamy," Octavia's frantic voice booms as she tries to move the gun away from Nyko's head. "You are not shooting him!"

"If blood must have blood," Myles starts slowly, her gaze never wavering from Nyko's as blonde hair spins around behind them. "Have mine," both Blake siblings shift on their feet anxiously, "have the blood of the only one here who stopped him. Have the blood of the only one here who helped your people on that day."

"Move now!" Bellamy screams out, his desperate hands turning white as his grip on the gun tightens.

"No!" Octavia screeches, and Clarke comes up behind them with a shock baton.

"Don't, Clarke," Myles' voice squeaks out, her eyes still locked on Nyko's as the man removes his hands from Finns neck.

The brown haired teen splutters and gasps, falling against the wall to land solidly on the cool metal floor as he greedily gulps in air. Bellamy still has his gun pointed threateningly at Nyko, his anxious hands making sure the grounder doesn't listen to his girlfriends offer.

"Don't fucking touch her," the Blake brother grits out, shifting to stand closer to Myles as his deep brown eyes glare at the man.

Nyko pays him no mind, keeping his attention on the girl, "this is not our way. He must answer for the deaths of my people."

"He will," Myles promises, nodding her head subconsciously at Nyko. "But this isn't going to go your way, or ours. Death lets him off easy," blue eyes twinge with disbelief at her words, "Finn gets to spend the rest of his life making up for what he destroyed. He has to carry that burden with him, he doesn't get to have it easy."

"The commander will like you," Nyko states, his words hard. "But she will not be swayed by your words."

"I don't want her to be," the red haired teen reassures, her hazel gaze still as strong and honest as it was moments ago. "I want her to do what's right be the people in your village, it's up to her what that means."

Nyko takes a short step backwards and Bellamy lowers his gun slightly as he pants from the intensity of the exchange. Finn huffs and gasps, his lungs taking in noisy gulps of air from his spot on the ground behind the redhead. It's like a veil has lifted, the tension slowly ebbing away as they all recover from the sharp twist their day has taken. Bellamy moves even closer to his girlfriend, only stopping his paranoid shuffling once his arm brushes against hers. The eerie silence in the dropship finally registers in Myles' mind as Octavia bristles in the corner of her eye.

Snapping her head towards Lincoln, hazel eyes see the man is not only no longer seizing, but is completely still. His chest doesn't move a hair, sending alarm bells ringing in the teens mind. Myles shoves her way between the two men to reach Lincoln, everyone but her and the Blake sister still wholly engrossed in the altercation from seconds before.

"Lincoln?" Octavia breathes out as Myles crashes to her knees, ignoring the white hot pain that shoots through her legs at the motion. The Blake sister is by her side in the blink of an eye, her rapid and airy breaths broadcasting her panic. "He's not breathing."

Myles doesn't waste any time, pressing her good hand to the unconscious mans chest and trying to do lacklustre compressions. Her splinted hand rests on top, the hard fabric scratching her right hand as she pumps the mans chest, silently begging him to breathe. Pale hands reach for Lincoln's throat, before the blonde shoves the red haired teens hands away.

"Move," Clarke's hard and authoritative voice booms, her hands resuming Myles' motions. "His heart stopped."

Thick tension clouds the air again, Octavia and Myles hovering over the reaper anxiously as Clarke works. Finn, Nyko and Bellamy watch with bated breaths, and the first minute passes by slowly, the only sounds in the room coming from their harsh breaths before Bellamy shoos Finn down the ladder. Unable to just sit and watch anymore, Myles pinches Lincoln's nose and pulls gently to lift his chin up. Holding his mouth open, the red haired teen blows a gust of air into the mans lungs, the sharp bitter tang of his breath making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Her long red hair sweeps into Lincoln's face, and she pulls it to the side as she waits a couple of compressions before blowing another breath into his mouth.

Suddenly, Lincoln gasps loudly against her mouth as she quickly pulls back, wiping her lips with her jacket sleeve as she looks to Clarke. Lincoln wheezes long breaths beneath the teens, but Octavia's face lights up with unbridled relief at the sounds. Clarke practically deflates, her whole body sagging as she looks over the reaper. Hazel snaps up to Bellamy, his deep brown eyes instantly locking on hers as he smiles proudly.

"He was dead," Nyko's shocked voice rasps out over Lincoln's jagged breaths. Red eyebrows draw together in confusion as both Myles and Clarke look over at the grounder, "How did you do that?"

"You've tried bringing reapers back before?" Clarke asks, her voice light with contemplation.

"You said death is the only way," Myles rasps out as Nyko nods his head solemnly, "is that because it's always ended up like this?" The man nods again, turning his blue gaze to the floor as hazel locks on Clarke's blue, whispering out roughly, "and they died like this."

Clarke catches onto Myles' train of thought the second the words leave her mouth, tilting her head to make blonde hair sway slightly. The two teens quiet and knowing looks must put the Blake siblings on edge, because Bellamy shifts forward.

"What is it?" Bellamy's unsettled voice queries, his gun hanging limply by his side.

Hazel eyes look up at her boyfriend, "I know how to stop the attack." Switching her gaze back to Clarke, "we can bring them back."

"No, Aggie," the Blake brother refuses, "whatever you're thinking about doing, no. You're staying here."

"She was the only one that was able to get through to Anya," Clarke argues, standing up beside Myles. "It took two seconds for the grounders at the village to accept her. Aggie needs to come with me back to Camp Jaha – "

"She's safer here!" Bellamy shouts, stepping forward angrily.

"Bell," Myles stands, quickly making her way over to him. "It's okay."

"You were strangled today," the Blake brother reasons, "you almost died an hour ago."

"She's right," Nyko interjects, his calculating blue eyes scanning over the Arkers.

"Like hell she is," Bellamy spits out, lifting his kind hands to frame her face softly. "You are staying here with me where I can keep you safe."

"The commander will want to speak with her," Nyko states, making the dark brown haired man close his eyes in desperation as he shakes his head. "She has her respect."

"Then I'm coming with you," Bellamy declares, his loving deep brown eyes pleading with his girlfriend.

"You need to stay here with O," Myles refutes quietly, her hazel staring up adoringly at the man above her. "We'll get Abby here and she'll help Lilo, but you need to keep them safe."

Dark brown curls bounce as he shakes his head fervently, "we're not doing this again. You're not walking into an army that's ready to kill every one of us."

"They won't kill her," Octavia replies, her voice sure.

"They can't," Myles whispers, winking at the man who's posture crumbles more and more with every passing second. "No one can kill the Ghost."

"You – " the Blake brothers voice cracks, threading his fingers through her long red hair as it hangs down. Crashing his forehead into hers, "you two will take guns."

"Okay," the red haired teen agrees, nodding her head against his. "Can you tie my hair up again, please?"

Clarke turns away from the couple as Octavia hands Bellamy the fabric scrap that had been tied in her hair. The blonde moves over to Lincoln again and Myles turns around to give the Blake brother better access to her hair. Blue eyes look to the dark brown haired girl and beckon her over, the two crouching down beside Lincoln.

"If he stops breathing again," Clarke instructs, "do what I just did." Holding her hands out to demonstrate, the blonde continues, "the heel of your palm in the centre of his chest, put your other hand on top and press down hard. Do steady compressions, the same speed I did. After every thirty, tilt his head back and blow a breath into his mouth."

"Okay," the Blake sister nods, her whole attention on Clarke.

The blonde switches her eyes between Nyko and Octavia, "my mother will be here soon. She's our healer, you just need to keep him breathing until she gets here."

Nyko moves forward to kneel on the cool metal floor beside Lincoln, his gaze scanning the mans body as he grunts and squirms under the chains. Bellamy secures the ponytail high on the back of Myles' head as Clarke stands and makes her way over to them. The red haired teen spins back around to give her boyfriend a sweet smile, reaching out to grab his hand and plant a soft kiss on it.

"Thank you," the redhead says with loving hazel. "We'll be back soon."

"You better be," the Blake brother warns halfheartedly, giving her a sweet kiss on the lips before moving for the two teens to climb down the ladder.

Clarke starts descending first, stepping down on each rung as she leaves and Myles can't help but huff at how slow and _boring _this is compared to sliding down. Her splint-covered broken hand can't grip on the ladder, she can only rest the hard black material on each thin metal beam awkwardly as she lowers herself. The hatch shuts behind her, getting rid of most of their light, only the dull moonlight streaming in from the bottom of the dropship lighting their path. Clarke hesitates as her boots enter the bottom level, and Myles almost steps on her head before the blonde continues on.

"He's stable for now," Clarke calls out to Finn as he waits patiently beside the lever for the ramp. "We should go," the blondes boots hit the metal floor as the brown haired boy stands, and Myles is only a second behind her friend. "You ready?"

It's quiet for a moment, Finns awkward brown eyes flicking to her as Clarke's blue are drawn to the bruise he dons around his neck. A red eyebrow quirks as the blondes gentle hands reach forward to check over the discoloured skin and Myles steps out through the parachute flap, her boots trudging down the ramp to wait for the ex-lovers outside. She's sure she wears a matching mark around her own neck, and if the weight of the world wasn't on their shoulders, she would've tried to make a witty comment.

Taking in a deep breath, the redhead twirls her head as she paces around mindlessly, waiting silently for the two teens to follow her out. Her mind wanders to the events of the past couple days, as a captivating itch scratches at the back of her brain, begging for her attention and telling her that this isn't real. Flashes of Mount Weather blend with recent memories, taunting the redhead with the possibility that this isn't really happening.

A dark thought passes through Myles' mind, and the girl pushes her left jacket sleeve up to pinch the pale skin it exposes. The motion causes a sharp pain, and nothing changes in the world around her. Her fingernails dig in deeper, making the skin around her fingers go white to try and push aside the sound of a distant drill buzzing in the back of her mind. Something flickers in her mind amongst the dashes of memories grappling for her concentration, and her head snaps up.

Her red ponytail shakes heavily at the movement, before Myles drops her hold on her left arm and surges forward. Following the curve of the dropship, the red haired teen halts as her eyes land on their target. It looks like a mash of random gibberish to all but the three best friends, her message for Monty still scratched clearly into the scorched metal. They'd spent so long making and utilising the code, she doesn't even need to think too hard to decipher it, her hazel eyes snapping to the punctuation and twisting the letters and numbers around as if it were a combination lock.

"_Kgd0 gdvw wr rfgdq. Hl5j Oxqd. Zg dug z1lwlqg."_

"Head east to ocean. Find Luna. We are waiting."

Clarke and Finn emerge then, the former whipping her blonde hair around as she searches out the redhead under the night sky. Myles turns to them, walking up to them after giving the message one final look. The blonde relaxes slightly when she sees her red haired friend appear, as if seeing her had lifted some of the weight from her shoulders.

"Hey," Clarke greets, her blonde eyebrows furrowing. "Where'd you go?"

"The message I left for Monty is still on the side of the dropship," her raspy voice answers, as she heads for the gate.

Recognition sparks behind her blue eyes as she nods her head in understanding, the two ex-lovers moving to follow Myles towards Camp Jaha.

Camp Jaha is chaos, people chatter about anxiously as they crowd around the gate. A guardsman talks over an intercom, broadcasting instructions for the evacuation to the whole camp.

"Initiating evacuation plan 2A," a mans voice crackles through the cold night air. "Report to your station supervisor for further instructions."

The three of them jog up to the heavily guarded gate, and it doesn't take long to find the blondes mother. Abby stands with Thelonious Jaha, Sergeant Miller and Major Byrne just inside of the camp, their calculating eyes watching over the barely organised insanity that has taken over the Arkers. Two of the guards at the gate turn to them as their boots crunch along the Earth, their hands twitching on their rifles.

"Open the gate," Finn requests as they slow to a stop, and the two men look at each other before giving the teens once overs.

"This is Clarke Griffin," Myles informs them, pointing at Abby through the gate. "That is her mother. Open the gate."

The guards look at each other once more before abiding their requests, the gate whooshing open easily. Jogging forward to reach the doctor, Clarke calls out for her mother.

"Mum!"

At the voice of the doctors daughter, all three adults turn around and hurriedly make their way to them.

"Where have you been?" Abby demands and Myles flinches back, her left arm jittering at the tone. "We're leaving."

Blue eyes jut to her hazel before the blonde replies, "we know how to stop the attack."

"What are talking about?" Jaha scrutinises, his dark eyes looking the teenagers up and down.

"We haven't been able to negotiate with the grounders because we haven't had anything to offer," Myles explains, her voice still whistling slightly. "The biggest threat they face right now is the reapers."

"I think we may be able to eliminate that threat for them once and for all," Clarke continues, standing up straight.

"And give them back something in return," the red haired teen finishes. "Their loved ones."

Jaha and Abby look at each other, but the doctor doesn't hold his eyes for long.

Tilting her head in intrigue, "How?"

"Abby," Jaha warns, his voice dark and authoritative as Clarke and Myles worriedly lock eyes. "You can't seriously – "

"Over there!" A woman shouts, interrupting the former Chancellor.

Amazed and fearful remarks flutter through the crowd as they point to the forest behind the teens. Myles instantly whips around, feeling her long, red ponytail fly heavily at the motion. Hundreds, if not thousands, of small firelights line the trees, a signalling message from the grounders. They are coming, and they're coming quickly judging from close their fires burn. Hazel eyes turn to blue, conveying the message that they need to go _now_. The air is still and stale as the reality of the situation washes over them, they're on borrowed time again, their fates literally on the horizon.

"Initiating evacuation plan 2A," the same mans voice urges over the loud speaker. "Report to your station supervisor for further instructions."

"Inside," Abby orders, not taking her eyes off of the fire lights. "We're holding a meeting. Now."

The teens rush to the intact Alpha Station wreckage, walking inside and waiting by the doors for Abby and Jaha to lead them to whatever room they want to go to. They're taken to the same room that they paced in front of after Bellamy returned from searching for the two girls. Jaha sits down at the head of the round councillors table as Sergeant Miller stands to attention beside the door. Abby pauses to Jaha's left, eyeing the teens as they stand anxiously across from them.

"We shouldn't be here," Myles declares in her raspy voice when Abby sits down and shifts in her seat. "We need to be talking to the commander right now."

"Tell me what's happening," the doctor demands, both of the adults staring at them to prompt their explanation.

"What makes them reapers," Clarke starts, "it's a drug. A red drug, our friend Lincoln was turned into a reaper and he's in the middle of going through withdrawal. His villages healer is with him in the dropship right now."

"Whatever it is," the redhead continues, "whatever it's purpose is, the high blinds the affected people and makes them crazed. Mount Weather controls them by supplying them with the drug to keep the high going and by using some strange tone. The reapers fear it."

"We don't have time to go through this," Finn grits out, shaking his head at the group. "All you need to know is that we know how they're made, and we're saving them."

"If we bring that information to the grounders," the blonde reasons, "if we just talk to them, we can get them to stop coming."

"They're already here," Abby refutes, "it's too late to talk with them."

"They're not attacking yet," Clarke rebukes, and Finn leans over the table. "Which means we still have time."

The door whooshes open as Major Byrne saunters in, her posture as straight as always. Hazel eyes watch the guardswoman enter, bouncing on her feet as her impatience builds.

"We have two hours till dawn," the doctor continues, her brown gaze switching between the teens as the blonde guard stands with Sergeant Miller against the wall.

"Let us talk to the commander," Myles proclaims, lifting her red brows to her hairline. "She was Anyas second, and Anya was willing to hear us out. Maybe that, and what happened in the grounders village, will make her listen."

Jaha huffs sarcastically, bringing his clasped hands in front of him, "we don't even know if the commander is here."

"Yes, we do," Finn corrects passionately. "Nyko told us."

"You have to, at least, let us try," Myles implores, not backing down. "If we were able to get one of her people to come and personally warn us of her presence, surely that alone must be enough to give us some rope here."

"Mum," the blonde calls when the woman only looks down at the table in thought.

"Abby," Jaha breathes out, his years of experience being Chancellor showing in his voice. "We're wasting time." It's quiet again, Finn looking at the girls impatiently and Myles quirking a delicate eyebrow at Clarke to urge her to just leave with her now. "Give me the authority now."

"Hold on," Abby replies evenly as Myles snorts loudly at the mans words. Clarke glares at her red haired friend, "Clarke, you said that Lincoln is going through withdrawal." The blonde nods shortly and her mother carries on, "we don't even know what he's withdrawing from. The detox alone could kill him."

"That's the part of the plan where you come in," Myles answers, levelling the doctor with a hard look.

The woman's brown eyes flick between her daughter and the redhead, "and if I can't save him?"

"That's not an option," Clarke replies, the tense air only intensifying at the rushed words.

"Doctor Griffin," the red haired teen starts, "we've been through a lot down here. I've done a lot up there. You know as well as we do that if there's anything I'm good at, it's coming up with a mediocre plan and making it work." Abby squints her eyes at the teen, and stands up slowly, "This is the only plan that can get our people out of Mount Weather, and team up with the only people on Earth who can help us find the other Stations and bring them back safely."

Jaha scoffs again, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms as Abby stares at the girls, "we are risking everything on a bluff?" The dark skinned mans dark eyes fly around the group frantically, "Abby, we have an out. We have a way to save the lives of our people."

"Not all of them," Finn bites out, nodding his head towards the man.

"We will come back to save the kids inside Mount Weather," Jaha exclaims loudly, standing up from his chair to tower over the spacewalker.

"We all know that's not gonna happen," Myles snaps back, her heated hazel gaze locked on the former Chancellor. "If you walk out that gate with all these people, their army will slaughter you. Those who aren't killed then, will be killed when they pass the next village because they will look at you the exact same way you're looking at the grounders out there. Like they're an army. Invaders."

"Abby," Jaha round's the table to stand in front of the woman, looking into her eyes in an almost condescending manner. "This has gone on long enough. If you do not give the order to begin the exodus, you are killing us all."

The teens wait with bated breaths as the woman flicks her brown eyes over them once more before looking at the table. It's silent for another moment, and no one releases the air they hold in their chests.

"I'm sorry," the doctor begins, spinning around to look up at the mans face. "I can't give that order."

Jaha looks down in disappointment as relieved blue catch eager hazel, the anxious expression on Myles' face turning into one of exasperation when the man leans in to whisper in the Chancellors ear. If they keep going back and forth without settling on a game plan, they will run out of time. They're already down to their last somewhat viable option, and they need to hurry up.

"No," Abby's stern voice is heard by the teen, the woman standing strong.

"I am the elected chancellor of the Ark," Jaha angrily proclaims, and Clarke quickly pinches Myles' nose as she starts to snort obnoxiously.

The next rushed out words he says the teens can't make out, but they can get bits and pieces as they wait patiently for the woman. Finally, the mans hastily moving mouth stops its motions, and Abby's hard voice reverberates through the room again.

"No. Are you through yet?" Abby questions impatiently, and a red eyebrow raises excitedly.

The harsh tone in her voice is nothing the red haired teen would've ever pictured to have come from the kind doctor, and it makes the impatient teen happy she came along. This is the most truly exciting thing that's happened since she was on the Ark and running around as she tries to stay balanced on a razors edge. It makes her heart thump harshly against her skin and her veins feel like they're vibrating, pleasant warmth spreading from her chest as a heavy weight sits in her gut. The demented sense of being alive and tempting death all at once that the redhead craves, running on it as if it's fuel.

Jaha steps away from Abby slowly, the mans dark gaze floating over the teens in embarrassment as Clarke lowers her hand from her red haired friends nose. Another heavy beat of silence follows as he walks around the doctor, locking eyes with the guards standing against the wall.

"Sergeant Miller," the former Chancellor greets, and Myles has to pinch her own nose to stop herself from snorting at the scene that's about to play out. Sgt. Miller's son is Nate, and the boy is one of the 47 still trapped inside of Mount Weather, possibly being treated the same way Myles was. "Major Byrne. I am relieving Doctor Griffin of her command." The blonde guardswoman shuts her eyes momentarily, a strange look of dejectedness covering her features as the man turns back to the group, "place these three into custody, but make sure that they are ready to leave with the rest of us within the hour."

Clarke and Finn are looking at each other in panic at the mans words but Abby and Myles don't shift or bat an eyelash. The blonde haired teens breathing slows as her body sags in relief when the guards don't move to follow the mans order. Myles' eyebrows raise up as high as they can go as she waits patiently for the scene to play out. A morbid curiosity fills her as she finds it incredibly interesting how the councillors can be just as immature and petty as the kids her age.

"Right now, Major!" Jaha yells angrily, turning to look at the still guards. "Or the blood of everyone in this camp will be on your hands too."

"Major Byrne, Sergeant Miller," Abby drawls out, stepping forward slightly behind the former Chancellor. "Put chancellor Jaha in the stockade."

The Majors response is instantaneous, "yes, ma'am."

Both guards step forward and reach to tug Jaha out of the door, but the man shakes their grip off of himself. Turning around slowly to look back at the doctor, the man can only blink in shock at the woman.

"Everything we did to survive," Jaha breathes out in dismay, "you're just throwing it all away. Why?"

"Because I have faith, too," Abby answers strongly, "in my daughter."

The words seem to be enough of an answer for the former Chancellor, the man turning and storming out of the room as the blonde looks gratefully at her mother. Abby watches Jaha go, but her daughters sparkling blue eyes are glued to her.

"Thank you," Clarke says sincerely, and her mother finally turns back to her.

"I'll send the guard detail with you," the doctor informs them, her brown eyes switching between Clarke and Myles.

"No," Myles refutes softly, "they'll see it as a threat. We've had more with less. We can do this on our own."

It's silent between the mother and daughter for a moment before Clarke speaks up, "Finn will take you to Lincoln."

"If you're wrong…" Abby hesitates, looking at the two girls seriously. "All of us are gonna die."

"If you all walk out of that gate right now," the red haired teen declares kindly, "you're all gonna die."

Abby nods her head slowly, "let's hope it won't come to that."

The sun shines brightly in the early morning sky, illuminating the world for the two girls as they approach the grounders camp barely half an hour walk from Camp Jaha. In this light, you could probably see from Camp Jaha as the two teens walk up to the hundreds of grounders standing watch with spears and weapons along the first line of firelit torches. Blue eyes meet hazel and the blonde takes a deep breath in as they come to a stop in front of the line of grounders.

"We'd like to talk with the commander," Clarke requests formally, standing with her back straight.

They don't reply, merely turning and leading them into the cluster of armed men, some wearing masks over parts of their faces. Grounders follow behind them as well, boxing them in as the two girls are escorted into the makeshift grounder camp. In the middle of the camp, a large tent made from various different materials knitted together with dark vines sits surrounded by armed men. Torches line around the tent, their orange glow flickering across the material.

As they approach the tent, one of the men standing guard steps forward and the two girls halt in front of him. The leaves under their boots stop crunching as they stop moving, the two girls not wavering in their confident appearance. Dark greenish-blue tattoos mark up most of the grounders faces, and many of them wear their long hair in braids, seemingly a signature of a warrior here.

"If you so much as look at her the wrong way," the mans gruff voice proclaims, "I will slit your throats."

Clarke gulps beside her, the mans hard words hitting her hard as Myles raises a delicate red eyebrow, unfazed.

"I've seen Anya fight," Myles informs him as blue eyes widen and shoot a panicked look to her. "I'm sure the commander will have no qualms doing it herself."

The man turns away, his face not shifting or twitching once as the redhead speaks, as if he couldn't hear her at all. He pulls the woven tent flap aside for the teens to enter. Neither of the girls move until he looks back at them expectantly, and Myles only steps forward after Clarke does, not wanting to declare herself a leader.

Another man stands guard just inside of the tent, donning a similar mask that covers his mouth. Handmade furniture decorates the interior of the large tent, leading up to an elevated throne-like chair with a young woman sitting on it, twisting a large dagger around menacingly as a woman stands guard beside her. Someone enters the tent behind the red haired teen, and Myles doesn't need to turn around to know it's the same man who spoke to them. The two teens walk forward slowly, making their presence known to the commander who's face has black dust smeared over her eyes.

As the two girls stop in front of the commander, the man who allowed them inside slips forward. He stands between his leader and them, but keeps out of the way.

"You're the ones who burned 300 of my warriors alive," the commander, who can't be much older than themselves, greets in a dull tone, her brown eyes not glancing up to look at them until she's finished talking.

"You're the one who sent them there to kill us," Clarke replies, with a nod of her head.

The words strike a cord with the long haired brunette, the commander leaning forward in her throne. Tapping the tip of the blade in her hands on the armrest of her chair, her eyes squint at them as Myles speaks up.

"As I said to Anya," the red haired teen starts, "we're the ones who showed up uninvited and destroyed your land."

The commander huffs, "do you have an answer for me, Clarke and Myles, of the sky people?"

"We've come to make you an offer," Clarke announces, and the woman's face hardens.

"This is not a negotiation," the commander grits out, her movements stilling at the blondes words.

"No," Myles agrees, "it's an introduction."

"Teik ai frag em op en ge disha odon kom," the woman standing guard beside the commander mutters bitterly. **[AN: "Let me kill them and get this over with."]**

The commander, flicks her eyes to the side but doesn't turn to look at the woman as she raises her hand to halt her.

"We can help you beat the mountain men," Myles continues, and the commander tilts her head in intrigue as she brings the dagger to rest on her legs.

Brown eyes scrutinise the teens, "go on."

"Hundreds of your people are trapped inside Mount Weather," Clarke explains, "kept in cages. Their blood is used as medicine."

"How do you know this?" The commander asks, her voice hard.

"Because we saw them," the red haired teen answers simply. "Our people are prisoners there too. Clarke and I were held captive by them."

"Lies," the dark skinned woman standing to the commanders left calmly claims. "No one escapes the mountain."

"We did," Clarke confirms, "with Anya. We fought our way out together."

The commander squints her dark eyes in question as her guard continues, "another lie. Anya died in a fire. You killed her."

Myles doesn't take her eyes off of the commander as she reaches into her back pocket and produces a braid Clarke had cut from Anyas hair. The blonde had explained she'd seen the woman do it for one of her warriors who had died as a result of the bomb on the bridge, supposedly a token of great respect for their people. The man who had walked them in reaches for his sword as both of the women watch the movement carefully, preparing for an attack.

Once the braid is in her sights, the commander relaxes slightly, tilting her chin up as her brown eyes flicker with recognition. Holding the braid up in her good hand for the commander to see, Myles steps forward haltingly, trying not to overstep her welcome.

"She told me you were her second," the redhead recounts, and the commanders eyes blink rapidly in shock. Myles steps forward again, "I'm sure she'd want you to have this."

The commander carefully takes the braid from Myles' outstretched hand, and the redhead steps back quickly to stand beside Clarke again. As the commander stares down at the braid, the woman to her left speaks up again.

"We don't know it's hers."

"Shop of, Indra," the commander instructs and red brows twitch as she tries to understand the words being uttered. **[AN: "Quiet, Indra."]** "Anya was my mentor before I was called to lead my people." Clarke and Myles both nod solemnly, and the commander sets the braid down gently beside her. "Did she die well?"

"Yes," Clarke breathes, "by our side. Trying to get a message to you."

"What message?" The commanders hard tone matches her hard eyes.

"The only way to save both our people is to join together," the blonde jumps on the opportunity.

Indra screws her face up bitterly, "Those who are about to die will say anything."

"I'm still waiting for an offer," the commander declares, staring the two girls down after an awkward beat of silence.

"The mountain men are turning your people into reapers," Myles states, her strong gaze never wavering. "We can turn them back."

"Impossible," Indra exclaims loudly. "Heda, ai beg yu, teik ai frag emo op." **[AN: "Commander, I beg you, let me kill them."]**

"We've done it," Clarke quickly continues, "with Lincoln."

Indra surges forward, pulling a knife and Myles steps in front of her blonde haired friend protectively as the woman hastily approaches.

"That traitor is the reason…" Indra declares, and the commander rolls her eyes.

"Indra," the young woman says in warning, as she comes to a stop in front of them and Myles inches forward to put some distance between the blade and Clarke.

"…my village was slaughtered by your people," Indra finishes, holding the knife to the red haired teens throat.

"Em pleni!" The commander yells, standing up behind the angry woman. **[AN: "enough!"]**

Indra dark eyes switch between hazel irises as the redhead speaks, "I give you my deepest condolences. I'm truly sorry and am heartbroken with what happened, but Lilo had nothing to do with that. He was already with the mountain men long before the attack started."

Breathing in a shaky breath, Indra pulls away and stalks to the side. Clarke releases a long breath behind her and steps to stand beside her red haired friend. Hazel eyes lock on the commanders brown as she stands before them, looking down at them.

"I have heard about you, Myles of the sky people," the commander announces. "You stopped the attack. You helped the dead and the wounded, comforted the distraught."

"I tried," Myles nods her head sadly, "I only wish I could've done more. I'm hoping I can do that today."

The commander steps down from the small platform, the man to her right staying close by her side as she approaches the teens. She comes to a stop in front of the teens, so close that if either of the Arkers lifted their hands, they'd touch her abdomen. Clarke gulps beside her, but Myles doesn't flinch, only arching a red eyebrow imploringly.

"You say you can turn reapers back into men?" The commanders voice asks softly, her eyes searching Myles'.

The red haired teen nods, her long ponytail bouncing against her back as Clarke answers, "yes."

"Then prove it," the commanders face scrunches up angrily as she speaks the harshly spoken words. Alarmed hazel eyes jut to panicked blue, "Show me Lincoln."

It's eerily silent as they lead the commander and a dozen of her warriors towards the dropship. The delinquents camp walls come into sight and Myles can't help the jitter that runs through her left arm or the hesitant glance she shoots at Clarke. Beyond that wall, inside that gate, lay the charred remains of 300 of their warriors. Sparing a glimpse back at the commander, Myles doesn't slow when she sees the woman's face is still as stoic as before. The red haired teen hopes it stays that way when they pass through the gate.

The silence isn't confined to their group, so it seems, as the scorched camp is as quiet as them. Lincoln's animalistic grunts and roars aren't echoing in the abandoned camp anymore, the dropship making the silent air feel still. Only the change of the crunching of leaves and sticks to the brittle snapping of the burnt Earth beneath them sounds under the early afternoon sun. They slip through the trampled gate and both Myles and Clarke hesitate as they still can't hear anything coming from the dropship.

Footsteps and crackling stops behind them as they reach the ramp, causing Myles to turn around and watch as the commander and her warriors scan the blackened Earth and bones by their feet. The brown eyes of the commander meet her hazel as Clarke looks back at them. Nodding her blonde hair up the ramp, Myles surges inside as Clarke urges the rest to move forward.

"This way," the blonde instructs, her boots following Myles' a second later.

Myles shoots up the ladder as fast as she can as the grounders enter behind Clarke, poking her head through the hatch and stilling when her hazel eyes land on the scene in the top level. Bellamy solemnly turns his head and his whole body sags with relief upon seeing her, but Myles' gaze is stuck on the doctor desperately trying to get Lincoln's heart to start again. Nyko and Octavia are crouched beside her as the redhead clambers onto the top level, her boots having a mind of their own as she skids to join them. Octavia is on the verge of hysterics, and by the looks on Bellamy's and Nyko's faces, this has been going on for a while.

Abby's panting breath stutters as her hands stop their compressions, the rustling sound of Clarke and the grounders starting to come up the ladder echoing in the metal craft. Myles' breath gets stuck in her throat at the look on Abby's face, and her mind whirs a million miles a minute as she tries to think of a solution.

"You're stopping," Octavia's shaky voice states, "what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," Abby starts, not meeting anyone's eyes as she leans back on her heels. "He's gone."

"No," the Blake sister denies strongly, "it's not possible. You're wrong."

Octavia shoves Abby aside to continue the chest compressions herself, and heartbroken hazel meet the devastated deep brown eyes of her boyfriend.

"Octavia," the dark brown haired man calls to his sister softly, reaching forward to comfort her.

"Come back," Octavia whispers brokenly as Clarke pauses at the hatch, her eyes surveying the scene.

Horrified blue lock on frantic hazel as Octavia sobs loudly, the blonde haired teen stepping onto the level and turning to her mother. The commanders guard comes up first, quickly followed by the commander and Myles brings her good hand up to hold her red ponytail as she thinks. Squeezing her red hair just to grip something as the commander pauses, staring into hazel eyes darkly before flicking her gaze to the blonde. Indra comes up then, her quick movements indicative of a warrior constantly on edge and ready for battle as Myles whips her head around.

This has to be another hallucination. This can't be _real_. There has to be something here to prove that this isn't real, to end this nightmare. Myles doesn't have her pen anymore, she doesn't know where it is, and if anything that should make her calm down. If she doesn't have her pen, this isn't real. Something deep in her chest won't let her hang onto that thought, begging her to find something else to ground herself with and bring her back to whatever 'reality' isn't this one.

Myles' panicked breathing and frantically speeding mind halts altogether when her eyes land on the guards shock baton at Bellamy's feet. The Blake brother inches for his rifle as everything in the top level stays at a standstill, the grounders looking extremely pissed for at the fact that they were lied to. Out of the corner of her eye, Myles can see the commander turn to Indra and nod once.

"Kill them all," Indra orders, yanking out her sword and Myles lunges.

Bellamy grunts as he lifts up his gun to try and beat the warriors to their weapons as the red haired teens slender finger warp around the shock baton. Pulling it up and flicking it on, it matches the length of India's sword as it points at her, but the crackling of electricity that comes from the redheads sceptre makes the dark skinned warrior hesitate. Indra's dark eyes stare into hazel as Myles stands slowly, Bellamy turning his gun to the woman as she towers over his girlfriend threateningly.

"Please," Clarke begs the commander, "You don't have to do this."

"You lied," the young woman replies easily, the black dust smeared over her face accentuating the murderous gleam in her brown eyes. "And you're out of time."

Clarke huffs as tears fill her eyes to Myles' left and the red haired teen lunges again. Myles thrusts the shock baton onto Lincoln's chest, making the man arch his back off of the metal floor as a strangled sound escapes his throat. Pulling the shock baton back, nothing else happens, the grounder doesn't start breathing again, so Myles repeats the action. She can feel the eyes of everyone in the stilled room on her, but she continues to hold the weapon as it shocks the man for a few more seconds, before stepping back again. Still nothing happens, and the tight air feels like it's suffocating her as she breathes heavily.

"Hit him again," Clarke orders, her voice hard and confident as she watches her red haired friend.

Myles obliges, shocking Lincoln's body again. The dark skinned man gasps loudly, his bloodshot eyes snapping open after only a few seconds. Turning the shock baton off, Myles falls to her knees and presses her fingers to his throat before pulling back the grunting mans eyelids to look into his eyes. His eyes are bloodshot, but the bright red rings no longer sit around his irises and they focus on the redheads gaze instantly.

"Welcome back, Lilo," Myles smiles softly and Octavia clambers forward.

The Blake sister hovers over her lovers face, the man turns his head and locks his dark eyes on her instantaneously. Octavia's whole body sags in relief when the mans loving gaze appears, recognising the girl straight away.

"Lincoln," the dark brown haired girl breathes happily, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Octavia," Lincoln says back, his voice hoarse but kind, no longer the animalistic growl it had once been.

Myles looks up into Bellamy's relieved eyes, the man lowering his gun and offering her a small smile. Blonde hair shifts in the corner of her eyes as Clarke turns to the silent and still grounders. The metallic scraping sound of a sword being sheathed echoes, and hazel eyes shift from loving deep brown to the respecting eyes of the commander.

"First Anya," the commander summarises, "then my people in Tondc, and now my people in Mount Weather. It seems you and I have a lot to discuss, Myles of the sky people."

Clarke and Myles are back in the commanders tent, standing at one of her tables and discussing Lincoln. Rocks and scraps cover the table in front of them, marking out a map with the objects. It's still tense, a heavy sense of foreboding plaguing their senses as the commander, Lexa, searches for words.

"Lincoln's recovery was…" Lexa starts, hesitating as she mulls over her words before turning her head to meet Myles' eyes. "Impressive. No ones ever survived such a fate before."

"It's not complicated, really," Clarke informs her and Myles widens her eyes to stop them from rolling at how patronising the sentence sounds.

"It's a drug," the red haired teen explains further as the commander walks around the table, "we just have to keep them alive long enough for it to leave their systems. We can do the same for the others."

Lexa nods her head, stopping directly across from the girls, "you may have your truce."

"Thank you," Myles replies gratefully, as Clarke sags in relief beside her.

"I just need one thing in return," Lexa continues, staring hard into their eyes.

"Tell us," Clarke readily agrees as Myles tilts her head, her long, red ponytail swaying.

"Deliver me the one you call 'Finn'," the commander orders, and Clarke tenses. "Our truce begins with his death."

"Let it begin with mine instead," the red haired teen offers, and Lexa squints her eyes at the girl.

"That is not how this works," Lexa refutes calmly.

"Isn't it?" Myles asks, "blood must have blood, right?" The commander tilts her head in intrigue as Clarke pulls on the redheads arm urgently to stop her. "We lived by similar rules where we're from."

"Then this should be an easy deal for you to make," Lexa reasons, waiting for Myles to get to the point.

"Or," the red haired teen challenges, "perhaps it's time we actually make people pay for the crimes they commit."

"That is exactly what this is doing," the commander explains heatedly.

"No, it's not," Myles denies, "he could be spending his whole life making up for what he destroyed instead of being let off easy."

"I assure you," Lexa grits out angrily, "he will not be let off easily. He slaughtered three innocent people, he will suffer the pain of three deaths."

"Why not three lives?" Myles quickly asks, "why does blood must have blood not count when it's giving life back?"

"And how do you suppose you will do that?" Lexa sneers, "give them their lives back?"

"Not theirs," the redhead corrects softly, "I tried to give them theirs back and I couldn't. What I can do, is give you the lives of the reapers and the lives of your people being held in Mount Weather."

"You need my help for that," the commander reminds, "that's why you're here." Her brown eyes switch between the two teens, "bring me Finn, and you can have that."


	9. Chapter 8 - Spacewalker

**AN:**** Hey everyone! TRIGGER WARNING: The end of this chapter contains suicide ideation! **

**This chapter has quite a bit of Trigedasleng in it, and i hope everything is accurate. I'm still learning the language, but I feel as though it provides an extra element if I have the translations there. I'm very sorry if it's annoying or if I get something wrong, please let me know if I do! Much love :) **

Thick fog cloaks the late winter air in front of them, the cold mist chilling the teens to the bone. Clarke and Myles are being escorted from Lexa's tent to Camp Jaha by two warriors on horses. The anxious red haired girl can't help staring at the beautiful animal, it's silky brown coat taunts her as she walks alongside it. Lifting her shaking hand up slowly, Myles carefully brings it closer to the animals face so it knows she's reaching out and won't get spooked.

A bitter grunting sound vibrates from the warrior on the horse, his dark eyes staring harshly at her over his mask. The torch in his hand barely does anything for the fog around them, the gold glow of the flames flickering on the grey smog as if it were solid. Clarke spins around beside her, the disgruntled noise alerting her of something happening between the two.

"Can I pet him?" Myles asks politely, "we didn't have horses where we're from."

Something significantly lighter than the look he was giving her previously flitters across his face at the words. His stoic demeanour quickly covers the mans features again, his head lifting to look in front of them. No nod or word comes from the man, but the lack of a refusal is all the red haired teen needs.

Reaching her hand the rest of the way forward, she brushes the slender fingers of her good hand across the smooth and thick fur of its long neck. The short fur quivers as the skin twitches under the feel of cold fingers, and the horse turns its large head towards the teen kindly. Myles takes this motion as acceptance, and in an effort to not distract the horse too much on its venture forward, the redhead hurriedly steps forward to skim her soft hand across its long face.

"Hi," the red haired teen breathes around a wholesome smile. The horses black eye flicks around, landing on her as it huffs happily, "aren't you beautiful."

"Myles," Clarke says quietly beside her, the warning tone isn't enough to wipe the huge smile off of her face, but the hard look the blonde shoots her with is.

Her hazel eyes look back at the horse, and Myles keeps her cool fingers against the graceful animals fur as they walk, a shadow of a smile still peeking through her serious expression. The electric fence that surrounds Camp Jaha comes into view through the hazy night as they march up to the gate. People shout indistinguishable words, but Myles would assume it's something about their arrival. Bellamy is the first person she makes out, waiting not _inside_ of the gate, but _outside_ of it, and the handsome man is the only one that could ever make her hand leave the beautiful animal.

The Blake brother is poised with his rifle trained on the grounders approaching, and the red haired teen slips her hand from its gentle caressing of the animals hair to run up to the man in utter relief. Another large smile covers her face as her boots pound on the dirt, and Bellamy hesitates with his gun. He only lowers it once, Myles is within reach, and he ducks down as she runs to him to lift her up when he envelopes her in his warm embrace. The redhead can feel the breath of relief he releases, his whole body relaxing as his arms hold her tightly to his body.

"Stand down," the Blake brothers hoarse voice tosses over his shoulder. Hazel eyes open to look at the guardsmen standing with their guns and flashlights pointed through the gate, "they're back." Bellamy gently lowers Myles, allowing her boots to hit the Earth beneath them as he quietly mutters into her hair, "she's back."

Shouts bellow out, authoritative voices booming in the cold night air to open the gate. The horses stomp over the dirt behind her as they walk Clarke right up to the gate, the tall animals grunting as the warriors sitting on top of them dig their boots into their sides to halt them. A loud hissing sounds behind the couple, the metal gate clanging as it is pulled open.

Clarke doesn't say anything, just walks inside. Her blonde eyebrows are stuck together, the concerned expression frozen on her face from their discussion with the commander. Bellamy's deep brown eyes lock on her hazel, slipping his hand down to thread his fingers through hers as Finn jogs up to the open gate. Quickly walking in behind the blonde, Myles spins back around when the men and their horses don't leave.

"Shut the gate," the subtle hardness in Myles' otherwise kind tone makes her boyfriend turn around, looking at the men.

"You can't be out here," Clarke rushes out, tugging Finn away from the grounders prying eyes.

Myles jogs after her blonde haired friend, pulling Bellamy behind her, "we've got problems."

"What kind of problems?" Bellamy immediately answers her, easily following his girlfriend.

"The big kind," the redhead supplies vaguely as Dr. Abby Griffin welcomes her daughter back with a hug.

Arkers crowd around them, their paranoid gazes and hushed words anxiously awaiting news from the commander and her army. Hazel eyes scan them, her left arm jittering as she clenches her jaw. These people are resting the lives of themselves and their families on the two girls' shoulders, and Myles can't help but be reminded of all the things she had done as the Ghost on the Ark. Life on the ground has turned out to require a strikingly similar sacrifice, and the same small group seem to be the only ones willing to make the risks needed to move forward.

"What did she say?" Abby's tone is commanding, the Arkers hovering around the group and hanging onto every word. Raven limps up, coming to stand beside Myles and Bellamy, "is there a chance for a truce?"

Clarke hesitates for a moment, "yes."

"What's wrong?" Finn asks, his brown eyes recognising the girls stiff stature.

"There's a cost," Myles steps forward while she speaks, tugging slightly on her hand that's connected with Bellamy's. The blonde turns her head to slowly look up at the Spacewalker, "they want more than bringing back the reapers."

"And what is that?" Abby's short tone cuts through the thick tension in the still air.

Hazel eyes flick up to Finn as well, but his gaze is firmly locked on Clarke's, "they want Finn."

This makes his brown eyes jolt up to hers at her hesitant words, his brown eyebrows drawing close together in a contemplative shock. Clarke turns back to her mother, confirming the red haired teens statements in a shaky voice.

"If we want a truce," the blonde wavers, "we have to give them Finn."

Arkers react instantaneously, the sweet smelling icy air turning into a sour scent as the onlookers chatter amongst themselves in shock. Raven stiffens moving to stand beside Abby and her fearful eyes give away her furious tone.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Raven demands, switching her eyes between the two girls.

"That's their offer," the redhead answers as Clarke shakes her head silently.

"That's not an offer," the brunette haired girl snaps, but the red haired teen doesn't flinch away from the tone like Clarke does.

Finns face clears as hazel eyes turn back to him, "it's a punishment. For what happened at the village."

"'Blood must have blood'," Myles repeats sarcastically, the bitter tone not falling on deaf ears.

"That's insane," the Blake brother rumbles, his dark brown curls bouncing as his angry eyebrows face the group.

"If we refuse…" Abby starts, hesitating when the crowd loudly proclaims their desire to give Finn up.

"They attack," Clarke finishes, and the shouts around them escalate.

"I say we give him up!" "Get rid of him!" "What are we waiting for?" "Yeah, go on!"

Myles deflates, the more restless the crowd becomes, the more fear strikes through her heart. Spinning her hazel gaze to Abby and letting go of Bellamy's hand, the redhead steps closer to her.

"I'm trying to figure this out," Myles pleads quietly, "but until then, we need to get Finn out of here."

"Easy people," Major Byrne calls out as the Arkers start closing in on the small group.

Abby opens her mouth to respond when a black haired man saunters up to Finn. The man holds a murderous loathing in his brown eyes, stalking the Spacewalker predatorily.

"Give him to the grounders," the man grits out menacingly, and Raven rounds on him.

"Back off!" Raven shouts, shoving the man harshly.

Myles instantly jumps forward to squeeze herself between the two as Bellamy holds the lunging angry man back from the teens. The red haired teen is still standing protectively in front of the brunette when they're both tugged backwards, hazel eyes watching her boyfriend continue to shove the man away from them.

"Raven," Clarke reasons, pulling the teens back, "Raven. Raven, stop."

Her red ponytail whips around as she spins to help the blonde hold the mechanic back, "Raven, listen to me." Desperate brown eyes lock on her hazel, "nothing is going to happen to him. I promise, okay?"

"How can you promise that?" Raven whispers out, and Myles can feel blue eyes turn to her.

"I'm the Ghost," Myles nods to herself, "this is what I do. I'll figure it out, we always do, yeah?"

Raven nods, gulping in shaky breaths greedily. Clarke relaxes some at the redheads words, the sentiment calming both of the girls nerves. Arkers continue to yell out angrily, eagerly giving the Spacewalker up.

"I'm not dying for him!" "Me, either!" "Spacewalker over there burned three months of oxygen on the Ark! He should've floated a long time ago!"

Another man angrily walks up to the brown haired boy, shouting, "Throw him out!"

Raven tears herself from Clarke and Myles' hands, chasing after the man and pushing him roughly, "back off!"

This time Major Byrne gets involves, stepping in and trying to yank the brown haired girl from the man. Raven doesn't cease, continuously shoving the man angrily, following his every step and flicking her arms out when the blonde haired guardswoman pulls at them.

"Stop," Major Byrne commands, "Reyes!"

Raven does stop, halting her furious motions against the man to spin around and punch Major Byrne in the face. The woman falls back with a wet gasp and Myles stills, watching the scene with her mouth wide open. Guards swarm on the hysterical teen, gripping her arms and cuffing them behind her back as they forcefully haul her away. Bringing both of her forearms up, Myles pushes her hard splint into the top of her head, her hopeless eyes searching for Bellamy's in the loud chaos.

Her boyfriends deep brown lock on her distressed hazel, the urgent need to get Finn to safety being vocalised through their gazes. Angry shouts echo around them, feeding into their panic as the red haired teen stirs into action. Shooting forward and gripping Finns arm, Myles tugs him away from the rapidly escalating crowd.

"Let's calm down," Abby's stern voice commands out, "we've got a lot more leverage over the grounders army. We'll evaluate all our options before we throw one of our kids to the wolves."

Finns face is worryingly calm as he allows himself to be pulled away from the crowd. Myles swings her head around to look behind her, seeing Bellamy arguing with Arkers who angrily try to follow the teens. Sighing heavily, her hazel eyes turn back to the silent Spacewalker before she stops at a tucked away corner of the stations wreckage, far enough away that they can no longer hear the yelling Arkers.

"Stay here," Myles orders gently, pushing on his shoulders for the teen to sit down. Finn plops down onto the soil roughly, his mind clearly distracted while he brings up his knees in a daze. "Lay low while we figure this out."

Myles turns to jog back to her boyfriend when Finn replies, "why are you helping me? You hate me."

"I don't even hate John," the red haired teen answers evenly, levelling his muddled brown eyes with her hazel. "I hate what you did, but I don't think two wrongs make a right."

"You killed a guard," the brown haired teen refutes, "how's that any different?"

Her gaze doesn't falter, even as her left arm jitters, "it isn't. They were going to kill me, too. I won't let them kill you so they can prance around on someone else's land and pretend they're safe."

Something dark flickers across his face and Myles turns on her heel, spinning around to make her way to her boyfriend and Clarke. Bellamy has his dark brown eyebrows drawn together as he argues with Abby, the curls on the top of his head swaying as he passionately bickers with the interim-chancellor. Picking up her pace, the red haired teen jogs up to them and catches the words being tossed around.

"They're angry at what happened in their village," Abby reasons, "and I can't blame them for that. If this is how they want justice, I don't know what else we're supposed to do."

"You want to start an alliance with the blood of a kid," Bellamy exclaims, "What kind of truce is that?"

"The kind that might just save our people," the Chancellor replies easily.

"'Might'?" Clarke barks out, "you want to kill Finn because it 'might' save us? That isn't who we are!"

"That's exactly who we _were_," Myles adds as she slows her pace and the three of them turn to look at her as she approaches them. "It's no different to floating, but you can't expect me to believe that we survived living by those kinds of ruthless execution laws only to do the exact same thing down here."

"You've already tried negotiating with the commander," Abby reminds her, "this is the only offer she's giving us."

"So you're just giving up on him?" Bellamy angrily remarks, his face screwing up in disgust.

"It's the only offer the commander gave to _us_," Myles interjects, "say we make the deal and give Finn up. What good is making the truce with Clarke and I if we're not the leaders here?" Hazel eyes implore the doctor, "there would be nothing stopping her from turning around and disregarding it. We're not leaders, we're not commanders, you are. There'd be no reason for her to negotiate with us, she'd need to do it with you."

Abby squints her eyes at the redhead when her daughter speaks up, "Mum. Please, you can't do this. It's time we do better."

"We've already started stepping up security," the Chancellor informs them, "it'll buy us some time, but not much. I'll find out what else we can do here to keep Finn safe and then we'll go talk to Lincoln. Maybe he can provide some insight on our options."

"Thank you," Clarke breathes, turning her worried blue eyes to the couple beside her when her mother turns away.

"Wheres Finn?" Bellamy asks, his deep brown eyes looking around anxiously.

"I told him to lay low," Myles recounts as she turns around, "he's over here."

The three of them march hastily over to the place she had left Finn, seeing Murphy sitting beside him with a rifle held lazily in his hands. Murphy's brown eyes land on them first, his weary gaze floating over the three.

"Hey," the Blake brother greets, "we're reinforcing all our defences. Doubles on the perimeter."

"No ones getting past that wire," Myles verifies, and Finns eyes jut over to Clarke as he stands up.

"I'll see where they're thin," Finn offers, moving to walk past the group.

"No," Bellamy refuses, and Myles shifts on her feet, "you should head inside."

At the teens offended expression, the redhead quickly jumps to elaborate, "B Corridor would be easier to defend, should it come to that."

The words don't ease the disgruntled look on Finns face, "I'm not gonna hide."

"Right now," Clarke starts, her voice soft, "we have to think about keeping you safe. Mum and I are going to talk to Lincoln."

"Come on," Bellamy urges when the brown haired teen doesn't move to follow their suggestions. Finn looks into Clarke's eyes for a moment, and Myles reaches forward to kindly tug him towards one of the Alpha Station doors with a reassuring smile on her face, "Finn."

Letting himself be guided away from the blonde, Finns brown eyes stare at the dirt beneath them as they walk away. The air is thick and cold, the Spacewalker clearly unhappy with the arrangements being made but he trudges along beside the couple without protest. It's a silent venture, the tense atmosphere suffocating the three of them as they march the brown haired teen to B Corridor.

"Thanks," Finn mutters dismissively when they reach the door, speeding up his pace to overtake the couple.

"We won't let them give you up," the Blake brother promises, "just sit tight."

Finn swings his brown gaze back at them fleetingly as he continues down the hallway, and Myles turns to her boyfriend with a heavy sigh. Leaning back against the metal doorframe to get out of the way of a woman exiting, his deep brown gaze looks at her, both Arkers wearing _that_ look.

"So," the red haired teen starts, squinting her eyes slightly, "Where is the king stationed tonight?"

The dark brown haired man huffs a laugh, "east fence-line, with Sgt. Wilson and Major Denby."

"Okay," Myles tilts her head, pushing off of the doorframe. "I'm with you, your majesty."

"Oh, no you don't," Bellamy refuses, his hand jutting out to gently wrap around her skinny arm. "You are going to bed. And you are going to stay in our bed, nice and warm and _safe_ for the last few hours of tonight."

A mischievous smile stretches across her face as she walks backwards, tugging her boyfriend along with her. Bellamy follows easily, his own face lighting up at her cheery expression.

"But how nice and warm and _safe_ could it really be," the redhead teases lightheartedly, "if my handsome boyfriend wasn't there to scare all the bad and cold and dangerous things away?"

The Blake brother digs his heels in and spins them both around suddenly, "in that case," Myles giggles at the motion. "We're getting you a blanket."

It hadn't taken her long to pass out once she'd stopped moving, the exhaustion she had been diligently pushing away completely taking over her body all at once. Bellamy stands with Sgt. Wilson and Major Denby, pacing along their section of the east fence with his rifle ready in his hands. The Earth crackles and crunches beneath the guardsmen's boots as their mindless footsteps patrol the electrified wire. Deep brown eyes scour the tree-line with a calculating expression, before softening as he turns to his restlessly sleeping girlfriend.

Myles' left arm jitters violently every few seconds, the movement accentuated by the blanket wrapped around her. Red eyebrows remain furrowed, one crease sitting deeply on her forehead as her nose twitches. Her legs jump every so often, jolting her back with the force of the small movement and Bellamy can't help but think of all of her injuries. Near silent squeaks and soft grunts flow out with erratic breaths, sounding misplaced in the calm early winter morning.

Dark, black skies slowly fade to a deep orange as the sun starts to peek over the horizon. Bellamy, Sgt. Wilson and Major Denby falter in their careless pacing when a particularly violent shiver shudders through the red haired teens body where she lays on the ground by Bellamy's feet. The Blake brother grits his teeth, hating the fact that his girlfriend hasn't had a moment free of Mount Weathers atrocities since they happened.

"You sure she's fine out here?" Sgt. Wilson asks, his concerned eyes betraying his cold, authoritative tone.

"She's better here than alone," the Blake brother answers, his hoarse voice sounding strained. At the mans questioning gaze, he continues, "she was in Mount Weather. They tortured her."

"Poor kid," Major Denby breathes out, "she's a lovely young lady. Really loves you."

"Yeah," Bellamy huffs with an easy smile, "I got very lucky with her."

The still trees barely flinch through the windless morning as birds start to slowly awaken, taking over the crickets soft lullabies with merry songs. White, dense fog emerges from the cold forest once again, cloaking the tree trunks in the winter air and lightly dancing around the Arkers that stand along the fence. Lighthearted chirps are disrupted by pained hushed gibberish as Myles' mind replays Mount Weather on a merciless loop, her body trembling with memories that twist and morph dauntingly.

"She's had a few hours," Sgt. Wilson states, dropping his hold of his rifle to sling it over his shoulder while he steps towards the redhead. "No sense in letting her suffer any longer," the man crouches down and Bellamy moves anxiously to squat down beside him. The sergeants hands reach out to shake her shoulder lightly, "Hey, kid, wake up."

His words echo, sounding far away and muffled to the red haired teen but his touch doesn't. Myles' skin burns under his hand, the heavy feeling tugging her harshly from Doctor Tsing and green-eyes and smearing the two worlds together. Hazel eyes snap open and look up at the strange man, her alert gaze immediately seeing that he wasn't in Mount Weather with her, but her body is still trapped in memories.

Myles' arms fly up before she even recognises that she's moving without restraints, but Sgt. Wilson is prepared, his hands catching her splint and the knife clutched in her right hand as they soar towards his face. Bellamy's shocked face is in the corner of her wide and petrified eyes, her skinny frame heaving with her desperate breaths. The Blake brothers hands take a second before they help Sgt. Wilson pull his girlfriends hands down.

"Woah, woah, woah," Sgt. Wilson utters quickly, "you're in Camp Jaha. You're safe, kid."

"You're okay, Aggie," Bellamy adds softly when all they get in response is hazel eyes blinking blankly as her hands continue to push against theirs.

Hearing her boyfriends loving voice makes her grip on the knife loosen, the blade falling from her hands and landing solidly against her blanket covered chest. Myles stops desperately pushing against the men and her gaze clears, darting around frantically while her whole body shakes viciously under them. The terrified look doesn't leave her face, even when Sgt. Wilson lifts his hands away from her.

"That's it," Bellamy praises, his deep brown eyes holding her panicked stare. "You're with me. I'm real."

Myles sits bolt upright, rasping out, "sorry." Sharp pangs stab through her stomach as her muscles ache from how tense she had been, her heart pounding with the same tempo of her quivering body. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise," Bellamy soothes, pulling her into his loving embrace. Large and gentle hands hold her against his warm and safe body, but her hazel eyes stay wide open as they stare at the grass over his shoulders. Myles' arms are pinned between her and her boyfriend, not helping her mind as it tries to sort out past from present and hallucination from reality, "you're okay."

"You've got it bad," Major Denby vocalises but the redhead can't bring herself to shift her eyes up to glance at him, even as someone leans forward and places a hand on her shoulder. "Poor girl."

"Alright, Blake," Sgt. Wilson's commanding voice cuts through the cool early morning air. "You're relieved. Send Sgt. Carter over here and go get some breakfast."

"Yes, sir," the Blake brother replies instantly, partially pulling away from Myles to grab the knife off of the ground and wrap the blanket around her jacket-clad shoulders. "Come on, Aggie," Bellamy's warmth leaves her as he stands up, before his kind hands tug her to her feet. "We'll go get something to eat."

Myles isn't paying attention to where they're going, her mind struggling to comprehend more than the warm arm around her shoulders and lifting her boots off of the ground to walk forward. They stop at a tent, and all but Bellamy's hand leaves her as he sticks his head in to rouse the sleeping guardsman. Her hazel eyes don't feel frozen anymore, instead they stare at the dark brown curls that shift and sway on Bellamy's head and the muscles in his back that are tensed in his awkward position. Bellamy turns back to her, his deep brown eyes instantly locking on her adoring gaze.

"Hey," the Blake brother smiles, wrapping his arm around her again and brushing some of her long red hair that had escaped from her ponytail away from her soft, delicate features. "I missed those eyes," he starts walking forward again, and Myles readily follows, "let's go get some breakfast."

Squishing herself into his side some more, "sounds good, your majesty."

The sun is barely over the horizon, still half cloaked by the hilltops in the distance when they both sit down at a table. Not many people are awake this early, several Arkers mull about the quiet camp grounds and only four sit around them, scattered at the tables set up near the bar. Bellamy drops the two shiny silver packs onto the table with a small container of nuts as they both sit down. They both fumble with their ration packs, Bellamy successfully opening his right away as Myles struggles with her splinted hand to open the crinkling packet.

"I'll open it," the Blake brother offers, reaching his hand out for it but the red haired teen pulls it away.

"No, I got it," Myles replies softly, her red eyebrows furrowing in concentration as she pinches the shiny material weakly with the two movable fingers on her left hand. The packet tears and her face lights up, "aha! Who needs two hands?"

"I don't think I've ever seen anyone that happy about opening one of these tasteless bars," Bellamy deadpans, a small smile peeking through his faux serious expression. Taking a bite, his loving eyes turn bitter when they look at the flat, brown bar in his hand, "You ever think we'd be eating these again?"

Myles shakes her head as she chews the gritty biscuit, feeling her loose ponytail drag heavily as it's caught between her back and the chair. Her hazel gaze scans the camp around them, stuttering when her sights land on the guards stationed all around the camp.

"Boring shift last night?" Myles asks once she's swallowed, looking back at her boyfriend.

"Mm," the Blake brother agrees, "nothing happened. They both liked you though."

"So you guys didn't do Inchworm?" The smile across her face stretches out widely when Bellamy shakes his head enthusiastically, an exasperated look in his eyes.

"You're never gonna let me live that down," Bellamy jokingly exclaims, "are you?"

"I want to do it," Myles explains through a light laugh, "I'm so upset I never knew about these team-building exercises. What a waste of the life I had up there."

The golden glow from the morning sun against Bellamy Blake's face as he smiles and squints his eyes at his girlfriend is a sight she'll cherish for the rest of her life. Even as he eats a bland biscuit designed only for nutritional benefits to keep the human race alive, his expression is carefree and happy. It was worth it, she decides. Spending all those years on the Ark, fighting just so your future kids could have the opportunity to maybe see this sight. Lifetimes of people working their fingers to the bone, only for ratty old clothes and tasteless nutrition biscuits in a floating grey tin can.

If someone had told Myles that in her lifetime, she'd see more colours than she could've ever imagined in just one moment, she would've thought they were delusional. They would've been lumped in with Grandma V and the strangely optimistic people that saw this very moment as something to spend their lives worshipping like a religion. A barely accessible fantasy that they could _see_ sitting just out of reach, only able to stare at and dream about.

Bellamy Blake is worth a religion in and of himself. A handsome man born with leadership pumping through his veins and more heart to his soul than anything else. Tortured by the unfortunate circumstances of the world he was thrust into. Bellamy had managed to not only come out relatively unscathed, but had spent his whole life trying to ensure that those around him were safe and got to _live_, at his own disadvantage. Arrogance and selfishness has only ever been a cover to protect his family and his heart. The treacherous paths he went down, he went down a second time in an attempt to mend his mistakes and right as many wrongs as he could.

"That's sick," the Blake brother scrunches his face up in mock disgust, drawing the red haired teen back to reality. "Maybe you should've been a cadet, then."

"Oh yeah," Myles agrees wholeheartedly, "I'd do all the team building exercises, and then quit before I had to stand around all night."

Bellamy barks out a loud laugh, causing a few heads to snap in their direction, "too 'boring' for you?"

"The commander could've moved their camp, at least a little," the redhead reasons, "just so there was something happening! I mean, come on."

"Don't you get tired?" Bellamy asks, his dark brown eyebrows drawn together in confusion. His light expression still sits comfortably on his face, "of everything happening all at once?"

"No, I live for that," Myles lifts her eyebrows at the man, her honest words flowing easily, "that adrenaline rush? That's the only time I feel like I can really think, that I'm really alive."

Deep brown loving eyes twinge with sadness, "waiting for that gust of wind?"

_"I didn't know it at the time, but it – it was selfish," Myles divulges, hazel eyes meeting Bellamy's deep brown fleetingly, before turning back to the woods in front of them. "I would love to tell you I did it out of the kindness of my heart, just to help people, but I didn't. It – " the redhead stops to take a deep breath, "it was a distraction for me. A desperate attempt of escaping the life I hated. A craving to balance on this line between life and death and wait for a gust of air to blow me to one side or the other."_

_Bellamy watches the teen, listening with a soft expression on his face, "you know, most people don't help people when they spiral."_

"Maybe," the red haired teen agrees slowly, mindlessly twisting the container of nuts around on the table. "I don't know. I don't think I know how not to. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," Bellamy nods, "like it's been so long, it's all you know to do?"

Myles hums an agreement, her eyes shifting to a guardsmen behind the Blake brother. Red brows twitch as she returns her gaze to her boyfriend. The two riders who escorted Clarke and Myles back to the camp still wait just outside of the gate, presumably waiting for Finn to be given up, and guards eye them constantly.

"We didn't have this many guns," Myles starts, her eyebrows dancing across her face, "why does literally everyone have one?"

"Remember that supply depot?" Bellamy asks, twisting around to flick his deep brown eyes over the gradually awakening Arkers. Her long red ponytail pulls heavily at the back of her head when she nods, "apparently we missed a shit-tonne more rifles and ammo."

Bellamy's bitter tone sends a sharp pang through her chest, "that's okay." Reaching her hands back to free her ponytail from the chair and tighten the fabric tying it up. Tapping the Blake brothers leg with her boot when he looks away, "we had a lot going on, I'm not surprised we missed things."

"If we had those guns," Bellamy hesitates angrily, "If I had bothered to look past what we found instead of eating those damn nuts, we would've had the upper hand in the battle with the grounders. No one would've ended up in Mount Weather."

"You don't know that," Myles refuses, ignoring the way her left arm jitters as she leans forward in her seat and wraps her good hand around Bellamy's. "I'm so glad you weren't down there when the hallucinations hit. I'm so glad more guns weren't there when Murphy was having his breakdown. We did the best we could."

"I could've stopped them from getting you," Bellamy whispers brokenly, "I should've kept you with me."

"If it wasn't me," Myles starts slowly, her left arm shaking violently, "it would've been someone else."

The pained look doesn't leave his glassy deep brown eyes, "I wish it was."

"'And fate?'" The red haired teen quotes, remembering the brief glimpses of his mother that the man had shared with her. "'No one alive has ever escaped it,'" Bellamy's face falls, but his eyes burn with a marvellous fire that puts the sun to shame, "'neither brave man nor coward, I tell you – it's born with us the day that we are born.'"

Bellamy's foot shoots out, hooking his boot around a leg of the chair Myles is sitting on and tugging it roughly towards himself as his hands fly up to cradle her face. The chair scrapes jaggedly across the dirt before tipping and allowing the redhead to fall into Bellamy Blake just as he crashes their lips together. Myles' closed eyes see in bursts of brilliant colours, each second and each loving touch introduces a new vibrant blend of pigment that paints her eyes.

Hues that not even the Earth could strive to rival overwhelm her senses as her world is consumed with the addicting bittersweet and musty smell of the man in front of her. There's so many layers to the scent of Bellamy Blake that Myles couldn't ever identify, the only two sticking out clearly in her mind being the strangely mesmerising aroma of sweat and pine. They stay under the throes of the ocean that is each other until their lungs burn as they plead for air.

Pulling apart, Bellamy keeps their faces connected by resting their foreheads together and pressing his nose against hers. Sparkling hazel eyes open to look at her boyfriends face, his deep brown eyes blinking open a second later. Her splint is resting on the back of his neck, her good hand threading her fingers lovingly through his dark brown curls and brushing along his sharp features. Bellamy's hands cling desperately to his girlfriend, as if she'd vanish into thin air should he stop keeping her held to him for a second.

"I should quote Homer more often," Myles jokes quietly, biting her lower lip, _that_ look clearly mirrored on both of their faces.

"My mum used to read that one to me a lot," the Blake brother reminds her, "the Iliad."

"I know," the redhead says softly, gliding her fingertips lightly across his face still connected to hers. "She taught you all the really good ones."

"Oh, she taught me the boring ones, too," Bellamy huffs a laugh, his whole face lighting up as he pulls back slightly. "Works and Days? You ever read that one?"

"You think Works and Days is boring?" Myles exclaims, pulling away completely, "Prometheus and Pandora? The Myth of Five Ages?"

"You're really comparing Works and Days," the Blake brother starts, squinting playfully. "To the Trojan War? To Theogony!"

The sun slowly moves up higher in the sky, the beautiful swipes of orange, pink and purple turning into a bright blue as the cold winter air warms slightly. Myles twists her head while keeping her adoring hazel locked on the handsome man in front of her when movement flickers to her right, cutting off the kindhearted retort. Grounders start banging on drums as they chant loudly, the riders at the gate shuffling in place while the same four words drawl out of the sea of people in the commanders camp.

"Jus drein… jus daun," the grounders army repeats and the couple instantly shoot out of their seats. "Jus drein… jus daun. Jus drein… jus daun." **[AN: "blood must have blood"]**

The army doesn't march towards them, the chanting seeming to only be a reminder that they're running out of time. Abby walks into the redheads line of sight, heading towards the gate and Myles can't help the instinctual step forward she takes. Bellamy's hand wraps around her skinny arm, gently stopping her from continuing towards the gate.

"What are they saying?" Bellamy frets, the worried confusion clearly heard in his voice over the armies repetitive mantra.

Her long red ponytail swings heavily as she shakes her head, "'jus drein jus daun'? If I had to guess… blood must have blood."

The two riders on their horses move around restlessly in front of the gate when they see Abby walking straight for them, and Myles itches to stand up there with her. Bouncing on her feet anxiously, her left arm trembles in Bellamy's hand and her words make the man tense.

"Finns still in B Corridor…" Myles drawls out worriedly, "right?"

Shaking his head, "he's been moving around. I saw him head to one of the resource tents to the west of camp an hour ago. Clarke went looking for him."

"We need to make sure he's ready to move out," the redhead says distractedly, her eyes glued to the interim-Chancellor as she walks to the line of guards in front of the gate. A strange pit forms in her stomach as she steps towards the west of camp, "we might have to bolt in a minute."

"You're not going anywhere," Bellamy refutes, following her mindless steps.

Hazel eyes finally look at him, "I can keep him hidden. Buy us some more time."

Myles stops heading towards Finns direction when her gaze flicks back to the riders. The red haired teen halts suddenly, watching as Abby comes to a stop beside the guards, before her boots change course to surge forward towards the gate.

"I'm not letting you go up there," the Blake brother refuses, his stern voice overlapping with the grounders angry chants and his grip tightening to stop her again. "I'll go with you and Finn, but you're not heading towards that army."

"I need to be over there," Myles pleads, staring into his worried gaze imploringly. "I don't know how to explain it… my gut says something's about to happen and I need to be there."

Bellamy flicks his eyes to the gate and back for a moment, before nodding hesitantly and walking with her. The red haired teen tries to surge forward but Bellamy keeps his grip on her arm, making her match his tentative pace. Fiddling with his rifle, the man slows to a stop when they reach a number of other guards with their weapons ready.

"They're trying to scare us," Bellamy's gruff voice sounds, his dark brown eyebrows drawn together as he watches the horsemen move shift in their spots.

A tense silence sits over the Arkers and the Blake brother drops his hold on Myles' arm to grip his gun anxiously. Myles is bubbling with unkempt nervous energy, her eyes shooting between the riders and the army's camp a decent walk away as they continue to chant. Abby walks forward again, her back straight and her posture confident, her head held high. The redhead lets out a sigh of relief before quickly jogging after her, taking advantage of the fact the Blake brother had let go of her arm. Bellamy makes a disgruntled sound behind her, his boots and the footfalls of another following the red haired teen and the Chancellor.

Abby doesn't turn back to look at them as she approaches the gate, and Myles makes sure to stay a few paces back so the riders don't assume she's a part of the leadership here. One of the guardsmen opens the gate for Abby as she reaches it, and Myles stops behind her with Bellamy and Clarke.

"Where's the boy?" One of the two grounders questions immediately, and Clarke bristles in the corner of Myles' eyes.

"We're not giving him up," Abby declares over the distant chanting of the army, "we're ready to fight, if that's what it comes to."

The horsemen stay quiet for a moment and Myles watches on, lifting a delicate red eyebrow when the grounder who let her pet his horse shifts his eyes to hers. Bellamy sees the motion and steps forward slightly, a silent challenge to the warrior. Masked features barely disclose his reaction, the warriors dark eyes that switch to the Blake brother is all that can be seen of his face.

In the direction of the commanders camp, a horn blows. It's similar to the horn used for the acid fog, but a slightly higher pitch. The Arkers remain where they are after the long note finishes floating through the air, but the two men on horses don't. Turning around, the two horses gallop away towards the now silent grounders camp. The horn blows again, the long note piercing through the winter air.

"Watch the woods," Bellamy calls out as he watches them ride off. "Watch for movement."

"Bell," Myles' quiet voice breathes when movement catches her eyes, coming from the tree-line.

The Blake brother catches the movement a second before one of the other guards barks out an alert for the movement, lifting his gun and pointing it at the trees. It's tense for another moment, Myles' chest heaving with the possibility that this could be an attack already washing over her anxious body.

"Don't shoot!" A familiar mans voice yells out and nothing in the universe could stop Myles from sprinting forward.

She doesn't even realise she's doing it until she leaps into the arms of the closest thing she's ever had to a real dad, Marcus Kane. His arms automatically wrap around her tightly, holding the girl to him as a large breath leaves him. Marcus looks significantly more rugged and worn down than he had weeks ago when Myles had seen him last. Stubble, short black facial hair that's sprinkled with flecks of white and grey give away his age. The hair brushed back on the top of his head is the same shade of dark brown she remembers, just a little longer than she recalls. Deep bruises under his eyes showcase his lack of sleep and he favours his left arm.

"They found you," Marcus breathes out, his good arm flying up to hold the back of Myles' head as they hug. "Thank god, they found you."

"I want to be mad at you for not floating me," Myles squeaks out tearfully, "but I'm not and I hate that I'm not."

Marcus squeezes her tighter, "that's okay. That's okay. I wish it was easier down here."

Myles pulls back to look into Marcus' eyes, "What Station was Nana V on? She's not here."

This makes the councillor freeze, his hands flying up to smooth the hair from her face and rest on her shoulders, "mum didn't make it." Tears mirror in both of their eyes as a cold spike shoves through the redheads heart, "I planted the tree. She would've liked that."

"Yeah," the red haired teen agrees quietly and Marcus nods to himself, before looking behind her at Camp Jaha.

"Come on," Marcus urges, wrapping his good arm around her shoulders and walking her back towards the camp. "Let's go home."

All of the Arkers there watch as the two walk to the gate, Bellamy now standing beside Abby instead of behind her. A soft smile is across his face and his rifle hangs limply in his hands. Marcus nods at Bellamy and the Blake brother respectfully nods back, a silent exchange that Myles doesn't know the context of. The councillor slows his pace as they approach Abby, before coming to a complete stop in front of her. Guards behind the Chancellor keep their gazes on the woods surrounding them, fidgeting with their guns in paranoia.

"Marcus," Abby greets, her expression almost blank as the man smiles in reply.

"Chancellor," Marcus tilts his head, leaning into Myles more.

"I was afraid that I wouldn't see you again," the doctor divulges, her brown eyes flicking between the redhead and the councillor with a barely concealed smile.

"I had those fears myself," Marcus whispers back, kissing the top of Myles' head and looking out at the camp. "It's good to see this place again."

"You can't be out in the open," Bellamy interrupts, his deep brown gaze switching between the three of them as Clarke approaches behind him. "We need to get somewhere safe."

Marcus smiles and steps through the threshold, "it's safe, for the moment. Come on, we need to talk. I managed to buy us a bit of time."

Myles paces in the hallway outside of the councillors meeting room with Bellamy and a released Raven, the mechanic having been let go after spending the night in the stockade. The three of them are anxiously awaiting whatever verdict their superiors will decide on, their impatient footsteps echoing as nearby Arkers eye them cautiously. Abby, Marcus and Jaha have been in there for almost twenty minutes discussing Finns fate, and every passing moment the three get more restless. Finally, the whooshing of the door opening sounds and all three of them perk up.

"What's happening?" Raven demands instantly as Abby marches out and down the hallway quickly.

"You were in there a long time," the Blake brother adds, the three of them following the doctor closely.

"Definitely long enough to come to a conclusion," the red haired teen adds, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Well," Abby starts evasively, "there was a lot to talk about."

"Well, what's going on?" Raven jogs forward, to look into the woman's eyes.

"There was a lot to talk about," Abby repeats and Myles slips between the woman and Bellamy to stand in front of her.

"Hey," Myles bites out, making the doctor come to a stop. "We are not turning him over to the grounders."

Abby tilts her head indignantly, her hard voice grabbing the attention of the people around them, "step aside now." Bellamy's hand comes out to pull Myles to his chest and the woman cools her harsh gaze, "we're all trying to find a way out of this."

With that, Abby continues marching down the hallway and Myles spins around in Bellamy's arms. His face looks just as appalled at the woman's stance as she's sure hers does, and Raven steps closer to them.

"They're gonna give him up," Bellamy breathes, his voice wracked with emotion.

"We need to go," Myles informs her boyfriend, her pleading gaze begging for him not to fight her on this. "Now."

"Go where?" Raven enquires as the two turn around and start heading in the opposite direction. "Hey, slow down. Go where?"

"We'll figure it out," the Blake brother answers vaguely and Raven bristles.

"Hey!" Raven jogs in front of them, stopping the couple from continuing on. "Don't cut me out of this."

"They're getting antsy," Myles whispers, flicking her hazel gaze around subtly and Raven follows her lead. The three weren't the only ones anxiously waiting for an answer from the council, and the Arkers are eyeing the three friends like they're a meal. "We'll figure safety out, you lay low. Cut the power to your gate and we'll meet you there in ten."

The brunette is hesitant, waiting a beat before nodding unconvincingly and stepping out of their way. Bellamy's hand brushes against Myles' skin as he gently rests his palm on her back, the loving touch guiding her as they hastily move through the Station to find Finn. The Spacewalker isn't where Bellamy had last seen him in any of the resource tents, and all of the agitated Arkers they pass only fuel the couples nervous energy.

Rounding a corner, Myles digs her heels in and grabs Bellamy's sleeve, tugging the Blake brother in the direction of the brown haired teen.

"Finn," Myles calls quietly, when the boy doesn't acknowledge them as they rapidly approach him. Finn turns away from Clarke to look at the redhead, "we need to get out of here. Now."

Clarke's arm juts out to halt Myles when she tries to pull Finn away, "Where would he go?"

"The dropship," Bellamy answers quickly, sounding just as anxious and breathless as his girlfriend.

Finn looks between the couples eyes, picking up on the urgency in them and the teen let's the redhead pull him down the hallway. Arkers pass them and they flick their eyes over the Spacewalker with disdain.

"No," the blonde haired girl refuses sternly, lifting her arm up to halt them once again. "You know that this is the safest place – "

Myles shoves past Clarke, keeping her grip on Finn as Bellamy retorts, "they're turning on him. We can protect him at the dropship till we figure this out."

As they march down the metal hallways, Finn gets even more scornful looks tossed at him, the people they pass having no qualms about staring openly. Clarke seems oblivious to them, but Finn and the couple are aware of every glance. Finns footsteps falter when a parent pulls their young child away from the four of them, the child's face staring in horror at the Spacewalker.

"Grab your gear," Myles orders quietly, tugging Finn along. "Meet at Raven's gate in five. She's already cutting the power for the fence."

"Okay," Finn agrees slowing his pace slightly, "but nobody's coming with me."

Bellamy slips ahead, throwing over his shoulder, "that isn't up for discussion."

Clarke pulls Bellamy's arm, making the whole group jolt to a stop, "we are surrounded by grounders."

"We split up," the red haired teen rushes out quietly, surging forward again. "Take the low ground, and we'll make it through. Piece of cake."

"She knows what she's talking about," Bellamy all but snaps when Clarke reaches out again, digging in his heels to give Finn a stern look.

Finns brown eyes jut to hazel, "this is what you'd do as the Ghost?"

"Like I said," Myles agrees, "piece of cake. You stick to me and I'll get you through."

"I'm coming, too," Clarke jumps in, turning to Finn, "if this is what you're gonna do, I'm in."

"Then I'll go with Clarke," Finn revises, looking back at the hesitant couple. "Split up, right?"

"Low ground," the redhead reminds them both as she finally drops her hold on Finn. "Lift your knees higher, step heel to toe. Don't have anything shiny on you. Don't make it a straight shot, weave around some trees, to confuse trackers."

"Meet at the dropship," Bellamy nods, resting his hand on Myles' lower back and moving to turn around.

"There he is," a mans voice booms loudly, a stark contrast to the low, murmured tones the four had been talking in. The group turns to the voice, seeing an angry mob of men stalking towards them and Myles steps in front of Finn protectively, recognising some of their faces. "You're gonna get us killed."

One of the men lunges forward with a thick metal pipe raised high and Myles meets him halfway when he tries to bring it down hard on the Spacewalker, grabbing onto the dense metal and using it to yank the man forward. As the angry man falls forward, Myles thrusts her knee up and let's go of the pipe to grip the mans hair. Throwing his head into her knee, the man falls down unconscious as his metal pipe clatters noisily and the rest of the angry mob look at her wearily.

"Anyone else?" Bellamy asks from behind her, an almost proud lilt to his voice.

"I don't know a single family here who you haven't saved," a familiar brown haired man declares, "all we're asking you to do, Ghost, is to do that again."

"I am," Myles promises, "one death doesn't stop a war, and a truce made on the bones of a kid won't hold. I know you have a son and you have to think of him, but I don't want to have a family in a world where kids have to die for the rest of us to have unreliable peace."

"They're right," Clarke breathes behind Myles when the men don't show any signs of backing down. "We have to go. Now."

The ex-lovers disappear behind the couple, their frantic footsteps echoing down the hallway as Bellamy and Myles wait for them to leave safely before turning away from the mob. Deep brown lock on her hazel when they finally turn away, jogging down the hallway they came from to wait anxiously by Raven's gate. Guards line the main gate, crouched down with their weapons ready. Finn and Clarke aren't there yet, but Murphy and Raven wait anxiously, the brunette haired girl limping back and forth.

"Where's Finn?" Raven questions immediately, spinning around as the couple round the metal sheet.

"Grabbing his pack with Clarke," the Blake brother answers quickly, his deep brown eyes staring at Murphy. "What's he doing here?"

"I asked him to come along," the mechanic replies, "we need manpower."

"Nice to see you, too," Murphy snarks sarcastically at Bellamy, who levels him with an impatient look.

"Looks like you're with me, Johnny," Myles breathes and Bellamy instantly hesitates, his boots shifting uncomfortably. The red haired teen slips through the fence wire without jostling it to ignore her boyfriends stare. "Raven, you're with the king. See you two soon."

Bellamy grips Murphy's shoulder as he's about to follow Myles through the fence, "you keep her safe."

"Yes," Murphy drawls out, turning around to duck under the wire. "…sir."

Hearing Murphy's boots behind her is all the redhead needs to surge forward, traversing the long grass with her silent footsteps. Murphy does a good job keeping up, following her random swerves and weaving motions, and crouching down when she does. He lasts all of ten minutes before he starts talking.

"You saved me from the kings wrath," the brown haired boy recounts, and Myles immediately shushes him. Huffing a sigh, Murphy lowers his voice as he continues speaking, "it's like you're on my side, then you're not, then you are again. How long until you hate me again?"

"I never hated you," Myles refutes in a low tone, reaching her hand out to stop Murphy from stepping on a stick.

"Sure seemed to when you let your boyfriend hang me," the words are uttered in a passive-aggressive tone that only Jonathan Murphy could ever use to irk someone enough to start a fight.

Swinging her exasperated hazel gaze to the teen, "and then I bargained for you to be let back into camp."

"And then you turned on me again," Murphy continues for her, as if he was answering a question.

"You had a gun to JJ's head," the statement gets an immediate reaction out of the teen. Bouncing his legs and tearing his brown eyes away as he twitches his nose, as if he were disgusted by his own actions. "I'm sorry."

"For me turning out to be such a failure?" Murphy mutters bitterly, "the one person you couldn't save?"

This gets Myles to halt, her whole body freezing as she whips around to look at him. The words are strangely reminiscent of what her hallucination of his family had said inside of Mount Weather, and her heart pummels against her chest. Murphy stops, seeing that Myles isn't continuing forward and his brown eyebrows furrow at the sight of the hyperventilating redhead.

"Woah," his hands reach out to steady her but she stumbles as she flinches back, her hazel eyes darting around for any glimpse that could tell her if this is real. "What's happening? What's wrong?"

"I – " Myles starts but her throat feels as if it's closing up, the familiar swirl of nausea wrestling with her swimming vision. It's like someone is putting up blinders beside her eyes, forcing them to tunnel in on Murphy's figure, "I – "

"Breathe, Aggie," Murphy's stern voice panics, his hands reaching out as she falls backwards. Myles lands on her ass and the brown haired teen follows her down, "breathe. What the fuck do I do? Tell me what to do." Red eyebrows furrow as her head vibrates with her body, her hazel eyes locked on his, a duelling match between terrified hazel and frantic brown. He waves his hand in front of her distant eyes, "are you even looking – "

"No!" Myles' rasped voice screeches when his hand comes close to her face, her whole body jittering with the intensity of her distress.

"I'm not going to hurt you," brown eyes plead with her as her desperate breaths get noisier and noisier with every minute she's trapped in this twisted world where hallucinations mesh with reality. Murphy swings his head around in paranoia, his eyes repeatedly landing on her to check if she's okay. Finally, his nervously rocking body gives in, and he clamps a hand over her mouth to silence her panicked, squeaky noises.

The sight of his hand coming towards her makes her shout in distress again, and Murphy quickly shushes her, applying more pressure to his hand against her mouth. "I'm not hurting you," his quiet voice pleads for her to understand, "you need to be quiet." Horrified brown eyes stare into her petrified hazel, waiting for her to come back to her senses as he tries to muffle her frantic sounds.

"Please," Murphy begs, his voice cracking wetly and his eyes become glassy. "I won't hurt you, I'm sorry."

After another moment of straining to breathe against his hand, the tight constricting bonds wrapped around her lungs loosen and she greedily takes a breath of air in. Blinking wet eyes at the brown haired teen, her violently shaking hands fly up to Murphy's as her body heaves with the effort it's taking not to sob in relief that she's not in Mount Weather. Murphy's hold relaxes when her eyes focus on him instead of looking fearfully through him, lowering his arms to pant heavily with the redhead.

Falling back to sit on his ass, Myles' quivering arms wrap around her stomach as sharp pangs from being so tense stab through her again. Teary brown eyes stay locked on haunted hazel, the brown haired boy shaking his head.

"I'm sorry," Murphy grits out, scrunching his face up. "I never meant to hurt you."

"You didn't," the red haired teens voice cracks painfully over the words. "It helped."

"No," Murphy corrects, "in the dropship. I was so angry. I didn't mean to make you so scared of me."

Blinking in confusion, red eyebrows crash together as she whispers hoarsely, "I'm not scared of you."

The boy blanches in response, "just now – "

"Just now I thought I was back in Mount Weather," Myles breathlessly whispers, ignoring the jitter that runs through her left arm at the name. "I – they drilled into my brain. I… I can't tell what's real and what's not anymore, it all looks the same."

"You should be scared of me," Murphy counters, his eyebrows drawn together, "how could you not be?"

"The only thing the dropship made me feel," Myles starts, staring her honest gaze into his eyes. "Is sad. What happened was my fault and I'm sorry you got blamed for it."

"I chose to do what I did," the brown haired boy argues, "and you tried to stop me. How is that not my fault?"

"I should've stuck up for you," the redhead breathes out, shaking her head in sorrow. "With Charlie. I should've. It would've been the right thing to do, but I was so focussed on sticking up for her – " stopping when her voice cracks painfully, and tilting her head away, "I'm sorry."

"Maybe," Murphy hesitates, bringing his knees up and resting his arms on them. "We can share the blame. You can't always save everyone and I can't always get mad."

Nodding her head and swallowing hard, "Yeah, I can do that."

"Come on," the brown haired teen grunts as he rolls up onto his feet, reaching a hand down to help Myles up. "Maybe we can save Finn," the redhead weakly accepts his hand and stands on shaky feet. They make it a couple of metres with their slow pace before brown eyes turn back to her, "What did it?" When only questioning hazel answer him, he continues, "took you back?"

"Sometimes it's smells," Myles tells him evasively, "sounds. White coats or green eyes."

"What was it this time?" Murphy presses, picking up on her reluctant response. Myles hesitates again, "was it what I said?"

"Kinda," the red haired teen whispers, "I saw a lot of things after they messed with my head. Saw a lot of people who weren't really there."

Murphy's steps falter, "me?"

"Briefly," Myles elaborates, avoiding his brown gaze. "Mostly your parents, though."

This time, it's Murphy who digs in his heels. A tense silence falls over them as Myles stops too, tilting her head back at him without lifting her eyes. Her left arm trembles noticeably and Murphy steps forward to keep heading towards the dropship.

"It wasn't your fault," Murphy says quietly, the only sounds coming from his noisy steps and her careless shuffling. "I think that's what makes me so angry about it. There's no one left to blame."

"You could hate Jaha," the redhead replies lightheartedly. "That's what I do. I blame him for protecting people who didn't deserve it and punishing those who did." Murphy huffs sarcastically beside her, flashing her his arrogant smirk, "he didn't make the laws, but hating him for enforcing them helps me sleep at night."

"Might just do that," the brown haired boy agrees with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

After a few short hours of walking, the burnt wreckage of their old camp comes into view. Myles' chest constricts painfully as her left arm jitters when the south foxhole comes into sight, the collapsed tunnel still coated in her blood. Dragged across the dirt almost two metres in front of it is a huge blood streak from where she'd pulled herself from the tunnel, and she's sure if she looked to her right, she'd see the blood smeared on the trees she used to keep herself upright when she ran from the mountain men.

Murphy's heavy footfalls across the brittle ground must give them away because the second he lifts the parachute flap to enter the dropship, Bellamy's rifle is pointed at his head. Raven's arm swings the weapon away as her exasperated expression comes into Myles' sight.

"Really?" Raven asks, levelling the Blake brother with a hard look.

"Relax," Murphy drawls out, and Myles steps further up the ramp and out of the charred remains of their camp. "It's Bellamy for 'welcome home'."

"What took you guys so long?" Bellamy's authoritative voice barks out anxiously, his hands quickly pulling Myles inside the dropship and ducking his head out.

"Is Finn not here yet?" Myles queries instead, whipping her red ponytail around heavily at the silent atmosphere.

"You guys didn't pass them?" Raven frets, sticking her head out of the dropship as well.

"Not at all," the red haired teen answers with furrowed brows, "but we did get a little… distracted."

Bellamy's head whips to her at the words, "are you okay? Did you two run into grounders?"

When neither of them reply, Raven turns around impatiently, "well, what happened?"

Hazel eyes awkwardly jut to Murphy's brown and the boy realises she won't say it herself. Bellamy's deep brown flick between the two teens, his dark brown eyebrows clashing as Raven's face grows impatient.

"She had a moment," Murphy drawls out, "but we made it, didn't we?"

"A moment?" Bellamy repeats, his loving deep brown eyes scanning his embarrassed girlfriends face.

"Yeah," the brown haired boy answers, moving to stand beside Myles. "Apparently, in certain light I look like the mountain men. Turns out, white coats really bring out my eyes."

"Something's got to," Myles jibes, quirking an eyebrow at Bellamy when he continues to glare at a smirking Murphy.

"You okay?" Bellamy presses again, reaching his hand out to pull her away from the teen.

"Peachy," the redhead replies unconvincingly as she scans her hazel eyes around the things that were left behind in the dropship. "I'll go stand watch by the gate."

"No, no," the Blake brother quickly refuses, wrapping his hand around her arm and halting her. "We're waiting in here."

The worried glint in his loving eyes stops her in her tracks, and Myles relents. Seconds drag on, the stillness of waiting chipping away at the red haired teens mind, making her feel as if she's going crazy. Deciding it was too claustrophobic to fidget in one spot beside Bellamy, Myles starts pacing the dropship floor. Raven's brown eyes meet hers when she flicks her hazel gaze to the parachute, the restless girls feeding the others nerves.

Finally, someone's heavy stomps hurry into camp, crispy cracking booming as they hurtle over the burnt wreckage. Myles and Raven hear it first, the former whipping her gun up and leaping forward to stop the brunette from opening the flap. A single set of footfalls sing out through the camp before turning into dull thumps as they step onto the ramp. Waiting half a second, Myles flings the parachute aside to see Finn carrying an unconscious Clarke in his arms. All weapons get tossed aside as the red haired teen reaches forward to tilt Clarke's head, spying the small amount of blood caking her forehead.

"What happened?" Myles demands, following Finns hasty footsteps as he walks further into the dropship.

"A grounder hit her on the head," Finn grunts out and Murphy pushes off the table he was leaning against.

"Put her here," the brown haired boy offers, helping Bellamy and Finn lower the unconscious girl down.

"I need a bandage," Myles flicks her head to Murphy, her good hand gently prodding the wound on Clarke's forehead as the teen turns to find something. "A wrap, anything."

"Here," Murphy hands the red haired teen a strip of cloth and she smiles appreciatively up at him.

Meeting Bellamy's deep brown eyes for a moment, she speaks again, "hold her head." Both of the boys hands lift the blondes head carefully while Finn paces around the lower level of the dropship, his anxious footsteps echoing in the metal room. "Clarke," Myles calls softly, dabbing the fabric on the wound gently. "Can you hear me?"

Pulling her eyelid up, Myles looks into one of the blondes blue eyes. Her glassy eyes are unseeing, but even without a light, the pupil dilates sluggishly. Sliding her hand to her nose to feel how her breathing is, warm air blows out and onto her fingers in slow, frequent breaths.

"She's okay," the redhead calls over her shoulder, "eyes are responsive and her breathing is normal. Clarke? Clarke, can you open your eyes for me?"

The blonde groans weakly, her eyebrows twitching in response and a collective breath releases from the group. Tension eases slightly and Raven stands, limping over to Finn who's still anxiously pacing around the metal craft. Bellamy and Murphy's hands still frame Clarke's head, leaning over her and helping Myles tend to her wound.

"You're gonna be okay," the Blake brother mutters, flicking his deep brown eyes to his girlfriend. "You just need to rest."

Raven and Finn talk quietly amongst themselves, and the three hovering over Clarke pretend not to be eavesdropping. Hazel eyes flick up, her whole body twisting around when Finn storms out of the dropship. A red eyebrow twitches as she looks at the parachute flap the brown haired teen had just disappeared through, the other brow flying up to join it when Raven hurriedly follows after him. Turning back to the two with her and Clarke, her baffled expression is mirrored on their faces.

Sighing heavily, Myles stands, "I'll go bring them back. Someone's got to keep an eye on the woods, especially now that they know he ran."

The inconsistent bouts of bustling movement and tranquil stillness startle her week old stitches, making her barely healing wounds tug painfully as she steps down the ramp. Finn and Raven stand to her left, surrounded by the carnage of what was once their home. Brown eyes snap to her as she walks up to the ex-couple, and the brown haired boy startles with panic.

"Is she okay?" Finn demands worriedly, cutting off Raven's comforting words and marching back to the ramp.

"Clarke's fine," Myles assures, and Finns steps falter. It's blatantly obvious he wants to go back inside, his anxious feet and stressed gaze repeatedly turning towards the parachute flap greedily. "You two should go back inside. Sit with her while we watch the woods."

Raven nods with her concerned expression still sitting firmly on her face, her low ponytail swaying through the still air as she walks to Finn, "Come on."

Myles' mind tunes out their disappearing footsteps when her hazel eyes lock on the collapsed south foxhole behind where Raven was standing. Her boots have a mind of their own, stepping forward haltingly while her left arm won't stop shaking violently. It's as if someone has their hands over her ears, the world sounding so empty and quiet that it rings and rumbles in her hearing. Flashes of pitch blackness, thick blood, mountain men and red gas repeat behind hazel eyes, her vision tunnelling in on the squashed structure. The same wet strangled sounds she'd made then replays in her chest as if she's making them now.

A dark figure stops in her peripherals and the red haired teen jumps, whipping her head around to stare at Bellamy with wide eyes. His hands instantly shoot out to steady her, his deep brown eyes clouding with concern.

"Hey, Hey," Bellamy soothes, furrowing his dark brown eyebrows and rubbing his gentle hands up and down her arms. "It's just me."

"Sorry," Myles breathes, shaking her head in embarrassment. "I was just… distracted."

Understanding flutters around in deep brown eyes, his hand raising to cup her face, "Yeah." His kind fingers caress her delicate features lovingly, and Myles leans into the touch. "You were standing right here," the Blake brother gestures to a spot a metre and a bit away, "when the rockets fired. I tried to get to you, but Finn wouldn't let me. I thought I was… watching you die." The red haired teens heart shatters at his shaky and somber tone, watching a dark look swirl around his face, "when we came back and no one was here… I thought you were right there. It… broke me."

"I'm glad," Myles' voice breaks wetly, "Finn pulled you away. You wouldn't have made it."

"Thank fuck you're the Ghost," the Blake brother shakes his head, his deep brown eyes keeping her hazel locked in a hypnotising stare as he brings his other hand up to hold her face, too. "If you didn't make it out, I don't know what I would've done."

"I heard you yell," the redheads recounts shakily, turning her head in his hand like her mind is turning back time to bring her back to that night. "I saw that Clarke had shut the dropship door and I thought… that if I could make it to the tunnel, I could knock it down and it would protect me from the fire." Her arms instinctively wrap around her stomach as her eyes get stuck on the tunnel to the south foxhole, a twinge pinching inside of her at the memory, "that's what happened to my stomach. I slid and knocked the support beam out. It just… went right through me."

"Jesus," Murphy mutters from behind them. "That's your blood painted all over there? I thought it fell on a fucking blood bomb or something."

Bellamy turns to glare at him but Myles snorts obnoxiously, thankful for the diversion, "guess you're stationed over there then, Johnny." The redhead salutes as the teen grumbles in response, grabbing her boyfriends hand and walking with him across the camp. Coming to a stop near the trampled gate, Myles smiles widely when the Blake brother turns back to her with a proud grin on his face, "What?"

"You're amazing," Bellamy gushes, "for surviving all that."

"Nah," the red haired teen shakes her head, squinting her hazel eyes at him before peering out at the tree line. "It's just a force of habit."

"Damn good one," the Blake brother muses, "if only we can teach Finn to pick it up."

Myles opens her mouth to respond when a flicker of leaves stops her for a moment, "we don't have the time. Movement on the north tree line."

The words make Bellamy yank up his gun, and Myles peers around a bit more as a lump forms in her throat. They're surrounded, warriors of the grounders army are scattered amongst the trees, their armour and weapons barely peeking out from the green of the dense forest. Tapping frantically on her boyfriends jacket, Myles tugs him backwards and signals rapidly with her splint for Murphy to come closer. Ducking down behind the charred remains of some of their old structures, Bellamy and Murphy get a glimpse of what the redhead was fretting about.

"We got company," Bellamy barks out in warning to the three in the dropship, "get out here."

Footsteps pound inside of the metal craft, before stepping onto the ramp. Turning her head around, a wave of relief washes over Myles when she sees Clarke not only awake and alert, but up and on her feet.

"Hey, get down," Myles says lowly over her shoulder, "grounders."

Finn lifts his gun as he and Clarke bolt for cover behind more burnt debris, all five of them watching the walls and gate worriedly. The handgun tucked into her waistband burns a reminder, but Myles doesn't pull it out. Instead, she lays in wait, waiting for the grounders to make the first move, feeling confident in the fact that three rifles are currently ready in case she's not quick enough. Raven sneaks out of the dropship and slinks down beside Finn and Clarke, silently joining them.

Hazel eyes squint over the wall, spying the heads bobbing in and out of sight quickly as people run along the outside of the wall. A masked man comes fully into sight through the large opening in the wall, his boots stepping across the trampled gate as it still lay flattened on the ground. More grounders follow, but they stay surrounding the outside of the wall, boxing them in and ensuring they have nowhere to go.

"Shit," Myles breathes out quietly to Bellamy, her head twisting around to check the rest of the wall that she can see. "We're surrounded. We need to get in the dropship, if push comes to shove we'll shut the door."

"Fuck," the Blake brother huffs in agreement, "Okay. Get Murphy and drag him into the dropship, I'll get Finn and the girls."

Myles immediately stands to do as asked, crouching in her hasty steps to reach the brown haired teen and grip his arm. Brown eyes barely turn to her, his focussed gaze still stuck on the grounders emerging around them.

"What are you doing?" Murphy scrutinises, his brown eyebrows furrowing.

"We're completely surrounded," the redhead rushes out, keeping her hazel on the grounders that have stopped once they slowly approached the gate and pulling harshly on the boys arm. "Get your ass in the dropship."

Murphy's head snaps to her at the words, then to Bellamy hustling Finn and the girls into the dropship behind her. Jumping up, the brown haired teen bolts to follow them with Myles on his heels. Once they're inside the parachute flap, the red haired teen yanks it to make sure it covers the entire entrance of the dropship and squats down to peek through the small slit around the edge. Bellamy stands behind her, pulling the material and poking his head out of the parachute while Murphy holds the same position on the other side.

Footsteps echo around them as Clarke paces worriedly around the room. Grounders flitter in and out of sight, the fact that they're not caring to disguise their presence makes a cold shiver run through Myles' spine and her left arm shake. Gritting her teeth together anxiously, hazel eyes survey the scene while her mind runs in overdrive. A heavy sense of foreboding sits in the cold and still air, making the painful pits in their stomachs deepen.

"They're not moving any closer," Murphy mutters after a few slow moments.

"They're staying out of range," Myles states lowly, flicking her eyes over the grounders and their positions. "They'll be waiting until it's dark."

At her words, Bellamy pushes away from the parachute to pace behind her. In the corner of her eyes, she can see Murphy bouncing on his feet nervously. The brown haired teen shoves away from the entrance to approach the group in the middle of the room while Myles stays put.

"If we hit them now," Murphy suggests urgently, "at least we take them by surprise."

"We don't even know how many of them are out there," Clarke's soft voice reasons.

The brown haired teen huffs sarcastically in reply, "I'm not hearing any better ideas, Clarke."

"We'll give them something," Raven declares as her shuffled footsteps pace the floor.

"All they want is Finn," Bellamy's hoarse voice reminds her, and hazel eyes continue to watch as grounders with spears walk around carelessly.

Raven's limping steps cease, "Finn wasn't the only one at the village."

Myles tears her gaze away from outside and stands at the mechanics words, her hazel eyes turning cold as she stares at Raven. In the blink of an eye, the redhead strides to stand beside Murphy and slowly inches in front of him protectively.

"What are you talking about?" Clarke questions, the disbelieving tone in her voice echoing in the metal craft.

"We're not doing that," Myles announces, standing fully in front of the brown haired boy.

"Of course not," the Blake brother agrees, his hand touching her arm comfortingly. "Raven, just hold on."

"Woah, woah, woah," Murphy breathes behind her, and Myles can feel him shifting on his feet. "Raven, I came here to protect him. You were the one who wanted me to come. You…"

Murphy cuts himself off as Myles tilts her head, all of the pieces clicking into place for them both at the same time. The stillness that goes through the body of the brown haired boy behind her is felt more than his anxious fidgeting.

"You've got to be joking," the redhead seethes, her eyes turning to slits as Raven's brown flick up to her. "That's why you asked him to come along?"

"Enough grounders saw him at the village," the brunette haired girl answers, turning her gaze to Bellamy. "They'd believe he was the shooter."

"You sick bitch," Murphy mutters under his breath, and Myles moves on her feet to stay protectively in front of him.

"Raven," Clarke tries, her voice pleading with the mechanic as she shakes her head. "You don't mean this."

"You know what they do to people," Bellamy's stern voice adds, his deep brown eyes flicking to the faces around him.

"They want a murderer," Raven continues, "we'll give them one." The brunette loads the chamber of her rifle and points it towards the redhead and Murphy. Myles instantly pulls the handgun from her waistband and aims it at the mechanic as Bellamy bristles beside them, "drop your gun."

Murphy goes to step around Myles but the red haired teen won't let him, following his movement as he spits out, "go to hell, Raven."

"Put it down, Raven," Bellamy orders, moving to step between the girls.

"Come on, Reyes," Myles says calmly, her eyes unblinking, "you don't want to do this."

"Please," Clarke's desperate voice begs, "Like it or not, he's one of us."

The brunettes brown are still locked on Myles' hazel as they point their weapons at each other. Murphy fidgets nervously behind her while Bellamy's stiff form stands in front of her, silently trying to diffuse the situation.

"I said," Raven grits out, her nose crumpling as her eyebrows twitch impatiently, "drop it."

Raven takes a threatening step towards the Blake brother and Myles moves, ducking under his raised hands to hook her bad arm around her rifle. Finn bristles as the redhead pulls the gun toward herself and shoves Raven away from the three of them.

"Stop!" Finn calls worriedly, diving into the fray as Raven angrily tries to charge at the redhead. "Stop!" Raven freezes as the Spacewalker steps between them and faces her, "we're not doing this. They've got us surrounded. The only thing we can do is stay and defend this place."

Myles tips her head and looks at her boyfriend, her handgun resting against her thigh, "I'm game."

"Yeah," Bellamy nods, tearing his deep brown gaze away from the redhead to look back at Finn. "We're with you."

"Murphy?" Finn asks, glancing at the silent brown haired boy.

"Yeah," Murphy agrees quietly, nodding his head and biting his lip.

"Go upstairs," the Spacewalker suggests to the brown haired teen, "watch the rear. I'll take the lower level. You four," gesturing to the couple, Clarke and Raven, "take the front gate."

Bellamy clenches his jaw, looking at Myles who quirks a red eyebrow, "Sounds like a plan. If they get close, shut the door."

Spinning on her heels and marching towards the parachute flap, it's silent behind her for a moment before footsteps echo in the dropship. Bellamy is behind her as she slips out of the dropship, and Murphy clunks up the ladder. The mans heavy footfalls thump down the ramp alongside her silent boots.

"This is a horrible plan," the Blake brother mutters into the cold winter air, his fingers twitching anxiously on his rifle at the sight of the grounders surrounding them.

"Yeah," Myles agrees, slinking towards the burnt structures they hid behind earlier, watching as heads twist and bounce through the top of the walls. "But you've got to work with what you got."

Raven's jittery form quickly catches up with them, ducking down to join them with Clarke only a second behind her. The brittle Earth crackles under their weight as they take their positions, this time with Myles pointing her small gun towards the gate with the others. No wind blows through their surroundings, keeping the trees still and eerily quiet as Clarke whispers to Raven.

Bellamy keeps flicking his deep brown eyes to Myles, his worried glances making the redhead feel restless as they wait. Leaves and greenery rustle, the sound piercing through Myles' ears and she whips around to face the direction of the noise.

"Someone's coming," she murmurs lowly to her boyfriend when her movements make him snap his head towards her.

Finn steps out from a foxhole by the gate, stopping between the gap in the wall and raising his arms up high. Myles stiffens as Bellamy does, both lowering their weapons in shock at the teens surrendering form. Clarke jumps up, running out into the open as grounders swarm the Spacewalker.

"Finn!" Clarke's rasped and desperate voice screams out.

"Teik ripa-de daun!" Grounders shout as they clamber to grab Finn and tear him away from the Arkers sight. "Heda gaf em ste kik raun!" **[AN: "grab the killer! The commander wants him alive!"]**

Myles stands up as Clarke stops in the middle of the ash and debris, watching with panting breaths as they drag Finn away, the Spacewalker not even struggling. The red haired teen steps towards Clarke in shock, and Bellamy and Raven stand up. A loud ringing plagues her hearing and her hazel eyes stare blankly at the grounders retreating forms, not even a shred of Finn in sight anymore.

The grounders shout and holler, Myles watches them through the electrified fence wire with Bellamy right by her side, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. The redhead would have her arms crossed, but her splint is thick and uncomfortable folded under her other arm, so instead it rests awkwardly on top as she holds herself. Resentment flickers behind hazel eyes, the look mirrored on some of the faces lined up beside her.

Arkers stand crowded around the fence, watching the grounders in the distance prepare for Finns execution with excited vigour, their loud cheers floating through to Camp Jaha. The sun had set an hour ago, quickly cloaking their part of the Earth in the dark night sky. Marcus and Abby stand beside them, Raven and Clarke beside her mother, bitter looks on all of their faces as they listen to the grounders celebrate the capture of Finn.

Tense silence fills Camp Jaha, the only sounds are the cheers coming from the grounders camp. The gravity of the situation isn't lost on the Arkers, even the ones who are relieved at the boys imminent death, the brutality of what's about to happen echoes in their minds. Scattered across the green land separating the two camps are hundreds of warriors, standing either with or beside firelit torches.

If it wasn't so dire and cruel, Myles would think that the sight was beautiful. Hundreds of bright golden glows flickering over the dark ground, illuminating the Earth. It's almost as if they've extended a path, lighting up the way as if it's an invitation for the Arkers to join them. The warriors that stand beside the torches watch Camp Jaha back, almost like they're waiting patiently for them to join in. Right in the middle of the two camps, grounders secure a huge and thick tree trunk to the ground.

It looks reminiscent of the illustrations in the books Myles had read when she was younger about life on the Earth. Specifically, the different religions they worshipped. This thick log looks like the cross from the long since forgotten Christian theology. The only difference being that instead of it being the stereotypical 't' shape, it looks like an 'l'. Watching them fasten it to the ground sends a cold, sharp pain through the red haired teens chest. Knowing that whatever they plan on doing to Finn, they plan on doing right there, on that stake, for everyone in Camp Jaha to see.

Reaching her good hand up, Myles threads her fingers through Bellamy's and squeezes his hand tightly. Every passing second, the crushing weight on her chest gets heavier and heavier, and the lump in her throat gets bigger and bigger.

"We're gonna get him," Bellamy's hoarse voice promises and Myles closes her eyes in grief. Marcus turns his head to look at the couple, "we'll get in close, and we'll hit them hard."

"Son…" Marcus says softly as the Blake brothers distraught deep brown eyes turn to him. "There's thousands of them. Even if we could kill hundreds… they'd still wipe out this camp and your friend would still die."

"We have to try," Bellamy continues, squeezing Myles' hand just as hard.

"Abby," Raven's teary voice pleads, "Abby, we have to do something."

Myles can't hear Abby's reply, but she assumes her response must be along the same lines as Marcus'. Squeezing Bellamy's hand in the same six tone pattern she communicates with her best friends in, Myles turns away and slinks out of Bellamy's arms. The Blake brother follows her closely, and the redhead can feel Marcus' eyes watch them go. Once they leave the thick crowd, Myles passes her pack to her boyfriend as Clarke and Raven's footsteps trample over the dirt behind them.

"Take this," Myles requests, plopping her handgun and knives into Bellamy's hands.

"What are you doing?" Bellamy's worried voice almost makes her waver in her determined strides.

_Almost_.

"I'm going to talk to the commander," the redhead mutters quietly.

Bellamy shakes his head frantically, following her quickly, "what else do you have to say?"

"I don't know," Myles divulges in a hushed tone, meeting his troubled, loving gaze. "I don't know. I'll think of something. Always do."

"Aggie," the Blake brother starts, stepping in front of his girlfriend and stopping her in front of the gate with pleading eyes.

"This is crazy," Clarke refuses, shaking her blonde hair in dismay. "They'll kill you both."

"Give me your hand," Raven's stern voice commands. Myles spins around to look at her, but doesn't offer up her hand, and the brunette tilts her head anxiously as she reaches forward and places a knife in her hand, sliding it up her jacket sleeve. "If she won't let him go, kill her. Things will go crazy, and then we'll grab you and Finn." Bellamy shifts on his feet nervously beside his girlfriend, and hazel eyes squint at a crying Raven, lifting a delicate brow, "Ghost, you have to help him and you're the only one who can. I owe him my life."

Turning her hazel to Bellamy's pleading deep brown, "no guts, no glory. Open her up, your majesty."

"That habit you have of surviving," Bellamy pleads softly, his loving eyes staring imploringly into hers as he pulls the gate and it whooshes open. "Do that again, Aggie. Please."

"It's the only thing I'm good at," Myles promises, walking through the threshold. "See you on the other side, handsome."

Myles hears the gate shut behind her, and she straightens her back as she marches her silent boots across the grass. None of the warriors move to her, obviously not seeing her as a threat, and instead line up in a path. Taking this as her cue, Myles walks between the rows of grounders confidently, letting them move aside to let her pass. Their boots crackle against the small rubble as they shift to make a path for her, and she makes sure to look as many in their eyes as possible and smile politely.

She doesn't head for the stake, instead following the path the grounders make for her to the commanders tent mere metres behind it. Indra stands outside of it and watches her with hard eyes as she approaches steadily. The dark skinned woman lifts her spear and holds it towards the redhead, but doesn't raise it above her abdomen. Myles stops, just a hair away from the sharp blade at the tip of the woman's weapon. When Indra doesn't move any more, or start talking, Myles leans forward, pressing the blade against her shirt covered stomach.

"I'm here to talk to the commander," the red haired teen states confidently, but Indra only blinks in reply. Myles has come this far, been confident this far, she's not going to back down now. Continuing her challenge, she steps forward slightly, pressing the blade into her stomach slowly. Indra's dark eyes scrutinise the girl, but Myles maintains her blank expression as she feels the sharp sting of the blade and thick blood bubble out of the cut she's inflicting on herself. "Let me through."

Continuing to slowly press herself more and more onto the weapon, the reply she's waiting for doesn't come from Indra, but the commander herself.

"Let her pass," Lexa orders, stepping out of her tent and standing with her arms behind her back.

Instantly, Indra pulls the spear back to herself and sets the end of it on the dirt. Nodding to the dark skinned woman in thanks, Myles walks up to Lexa with a steady pace.

"You bleed for nothing," Lexa informs her, her brown eyes peering at her as she stops through the black dust smeared across her face.

"Wouldn't be the first time," the redhead replies easily, the words dripping from her tongue evenly.

The commander tilts her head up, "you cannot stop this."

"No," Myles agrees, holding the woman's eyes. "Only you can."

It's silent for a moment between the two before grounders erupt into whoops and hollers around them. In the corner of her eye, Myles can see grounders escorting a bound Finn down to the stake beside her, but she refuses to tear her hazel gaze from the commanders.

"Show my people how powerful you are," the redhead challenges, her voice barely cutting through the escalating cheers of the warriors around them. Lexa tilts her head in a condescending manner, a challenge of her own, "show them you can be merciful. Show them you're not a savage."

"We are what we are," the commanders harsh voice tells her slowly, her tone even and strong.

Finn is looking at her as grounders tie him to the stake, "then I'm a killer." Lexa's eyes flicker at the admission, "the crime that sent me down here was for murdering one of our warriors. I killed the men who tried to ward us off their land. I killed your scouts. I helped burn 300 of your people. I've killed reapers and mountain men. I'm soaked in other people's blood, in grounder blood." Lexa looks to Finn, before turning her dark eyes back to the redhead, "surely, your people would get more justice executing me than a kid who killed three of your people out of fear."

"But Finn is guilty," Lexa refutes calmly, as if Myles hadn't spoken at all.

"Am I not more guilty than him?" The redhead counters, quirking her red eyebrows.

"You payed your debts," the commander reasons, "you helped Anya. You helped my people in Tondc. If you had not stopped the boy, many more would have died."

"Then I wouldn't be here," Myles rationalises, her hazel eyes never once wavering. "Then you'd be doing the right thing, but I stopped that, and now we'll never know."

"You said that justice is the same where you come from," Lexa scrutinises, "why are you trying to stop something that your people would do?"

"They wouldn't today," the red haired teen informs her, hoping her words prove to be true. "They wouldn't yesterday, and they won't tomorrow. They killed everyone who had a wrinkle in their shirt and a hair out of place in space, and while I do not agree with that, they did that because we didn't have enough room for everyone."

Lexa's eyes spark with curiosity at her words, "They chose to make life meaningless," Myles continues, "because it was what they had to do to survive. But we have room down here. We can fit everyone now, and life doesn't have to mean nothing anymore."

"How is paying for the innocent lives you stole," Lexa's authoritative voice bellows, "making life meaningless?"

"Because you're making death meaningless," the redhead answers immediately. The commander tilts her head and eyes the teen with intrigue, "when death is meaningless, life is meaningless. Why bother with life if there is no real punishment, if death means nothing anymore? He could've killed a whole village of innocents, and his only price would be his life."

"He will suffer the pain of each of their deaths," the commander repeats strongly.

"But what price is that if the prize is death?" Myles questions, tilting her head seriously.

"'Prize'?" Lexa spits out angrily, and the grounders around them shift on their feet.

"Do you know," the red haired teen starts slowly, "What I would give to be on that stake alongside him? I could've done nothing wrong my whole life and you could torture me day and night for a month, and it would be worth it just to die."

The commander tilts her head, "you want to die, even though you have payed your debts?"

"No," Myles answers, "I want to die so that I will never have to feel pain or sadness ever again. Tell me this, commander, would you rather have no pain or sadness for the rest of eternity, by only sacrificing the ability to feel happiness, or would you rather have the opportunity to feel happy in 90 years but you had to suffer for it?"

"Then what punishment would be just?" Lexa asks, squinting her eyes, "your people setting him free?"

"No," Myles shakes her head, "my people don't get to decide his fate, because what he did, he did on your land to your people."

"If I cannot decide his fate," the commander raises her voice, "and you cannot decide his fate, who can?"

"Both of us," the redhead replies confidently, "I'm not saying you have to change your laws and how they're handled. All I'm saying is, since my people aren't yours, and your people aren't mine, maybe an adequate punishment needs to be agreed upon from both sides."

"And how will that go?" Lexa bites out, "your people will call for his freedom and mine for his head."

"That's why," Myles starts, "it won't just be you and my leader. We could hold a trial. You can choose the people here that you trust, and we'll choose the same amount of people to keep it fair. You can have as many others up to testify as you want, witnesses, to tell us exactly what it was like to be there. Exactly how horrifying and scary it was. We can bring up people from our camp to tell you about his past and who he was, what he was like. Then your chosen people will talk with ours and come to a fair and just punishment. Maybe that's his execution, maybe it's hard labour, maybe it's a bunch of our supplies and technology, maybe it's his banishment."

A tense silence hangs in the air as Finn watches the two girls stare at each other. Lexa squints her eyes but Myles doesn't back down, holding her gaze with a steady expression.

"How many people could I choose?" Lexa enquires after a heavy moment.

"As long as you think it's fair we have the same amount," Myles concludes, "as many as you want. You can have victims families there if you want, but I would like to ask that his ex-girlfriends are only witnesses and don't get to decide his fate. I can't tell you with a clear conscience that it would be fair on our end if they had a hand in whatever decision is made."

"Your people are harbouring a traitor," the commander accuses strongly, her eyes fierce. "Why should I trust the rest of your people will be fair if they're siding with a traitor?"

"Then we hold a trial for Lilo, too," Myles amends, nodding her head. "Finns crime was hurting your people, and Lincoln's was helping ours. We can put them both on trial."

"I was told," the commander drawls out, "that you are a leader, but you tell me that you are not. Why are you here, and not your leader?"

Huffing humourlessly, "I have a nasty habit of sticking my head where it doesn't belong. It's what got me sent down here."

"And you're not a leader?" Lexa queries, the lighthearted lilt in her voice betraying her serious eyes.

"No," Myles answers honestly, shaking her head and making her long red ponytail sway heavily. "I never was, and I don't want to be."

"That's what makes you a good leader," the commander reasons, "they follow you. Anya trusted you. My people in Tondc trust you. To have all that power and not want it, to not use it, shows me that your people could be very well liked and needed here." Turning to the grounders standing by Finn, "lok em daun, nodotaim. Nou bash em op, ai na komba hir." **[AN: "Lock him up again. Don't harm him, I'll be back."]**

The warriors move hesitantly to do as commanded, "Heda – "

"Ai don tel yu op," Lexa snaps back at him, "dula chit ai don biyo, o na kof yu op. Lid gapa in ga Maiyls kom Skaikru." **[AN: "I told you. Do what I said or you will pay. Bring a horse for Myles of the Sky People."] **

"Heda," Indra pleads as the warriors hastily untie Finn and start to drag him away. Confused roars erupt through the crowd, "ai beja yu daun, nou sen em op, em ste spichen!" **[AN: "Commander, I beg you, don't listen to her, she's lying!"]**

"Noumou!" Lexa's commanding voice shouts sternly for them all to hear, and warriors hurriedly walk two horses over to them. "Em bilaik don sad klin. Osir na ge raitnes, nou get yu daun." **[AN: "enough! It is done. We will get justice, don't you worry."] **Lexa quickly hops onto the saddle on one of the horses backs, and turns to Myles who stands still, looking around cluelessly. "Aren't you going to come talk to your leader?"

"If you want me to," Myles appeases, not wanting to ruin the progress she's made. Lexa only raises a brown eyebrow and glances pointedly from her to the horse a grounder stands with beside her. "I've never ridden a horse. I don't know what to do."

"Gali will ride with you," the commander orders and not a second later the man holding the horses reins bends down and lifts her up.

A surge of panic flows through her as the man ducks down and her bloody abdomen pushes into his shoulder. It passes quickly when he plops her onto the horses saddle, and she quickly recovers, throwing her leg over to straddle the large animal. Myles feels unsteady, as if she has no balance and is about to fall off of the poor horse so her hands grip the front of the saddle tightly. The horse shifts on its feet when the grounder who picked her up, Gali, hops on behind her.

Myles squeals in surprise when he climbs on, the horses movements scaring her and making her lean forward. Embarrassment floods through her, and she straightens slightly to glance over her shoulder at the masked mans face.

"Sorry," the redhead squeaks out, but the stoic man doesn't acknowledge any of her antics.

Suddenly, Lexa trots forward on her horse before the animal gallops towards Camp Jaha's fence. When Lexa moves forward, so does Gali, and Myles can't help but feel like she's being bounced around a lot more than Lexa and Gali are. The grounders arms frame hers, wrapping his arms around her to grip the reins as the red haired teen holds onto the hard saddle for support.

Myles bounces uncomfortably until they reach the gate for Camp Jaha, and no one climbs off of their horse as the metal gate whooshes open. Abby, Marcus, Bellamy, Clarke and Raven immediately bust out of the gate, walking up to the horses. Bellamy's deep brown eyes burn with an intensity that Myles hasn't seen in his eyes before as he looks at the man behind his girlfriend.

"Myles has given me an offer," the commanders authoritative voice booms out, "and I am here to accept it."

"And what would that be?" Abby asks, her brown eyes flicking to the redhead with a hard expression.

"A fair trial," Lexa answers in a steady voice. Clarke and Raven brighten at the news, "I will choose seven of my people, and you will choose seven of yours. We will bring forward survivors from the village and you can bring the people who can attest to the boys character. At the end, us and our seven people will come to a conclusion about the boys fate, and his punishment."

"That sounds reasonable," the doctor agrees, nodding her head appreciatively. "I assume this trial will be held in your camp?"

"Yes," Lexa tilts her head, "I have two conditions. One is that his two ex-girlfriends only participate as witnesses, and they do not have a hand in deciding the boys fate."

Clarke and Raven bristle at the news, "Mum, that's no – "

"Clarke," Abby warns, levelling her daughter with a pointed stare, "that is more than fair."

"Please, Abby," Raven tearily pleads, stepping towards the doctor, who only shakes her head at the crying teen.

"What's your second request?" Abby enquires, her voice loud and firm.

Lexa tilts her head up, her gaze never wavering from the interim-Chancellors, "Myles is one of my seven."


	10. Chapter 9 - Remember Me

**AN: Hey everyone! Just another warning for Trigedasleng usages and translations! If I've gotten any of the Trigedasleng wrong, please let me know! I really hope everything with Finn seems realistic, I feel that with Myles' personality and the way she's able to think things through and explain them in a way that captivates her audience, both on the Ark and on Earth, that it would go something like this. After all, surviving is her best talent ;) Much Love :)**

Myles sits against the left hand side wall of Lexa's tent, squished in with seven other grounders. Cool metal presses against the skin of her ankle as the small pistol she stole from one of the guardsmen that walked the Arkers to the commanders tent rests in her shoe, the bulky weapon tucked uncomfortably into her sock on her right leg. Her hazel eyes stare at Bellamy across the room as he and seven other Arkers talk animatedly to each other. In the corner of her eyes, she can see Finn sitting on the ground beside Lexa's throne with his hands bound, his weary eyes tiredly looking over the 16 people deciding his fate. Bellamy's deep brown eyes lock on hers frequently, the mans anxiety being felt from across the room.

Several of the delegates had somehow managed to sleep throughout the last ten hours, including Bellamy, Finn and Lexa. Myles, however, can barely blink with the overwhelming guilt that sits on her shoulders. They'd spent hours listening to the pleas of the few survivors from Tondc that had come with the commander and their words echo in Myles' mind hauntingly. Clarke and Raven had gotten a chance to stand up and speak, as did Murphy and Octavia, but no one currently in the commanders tent besides Finn had shared their testimonies for the people in Tondc, Finn or Lincoln.

"I believe," Nyko starts slowly, not causing hazel eye to tear away from her boyfriend. "That is too strict. They will never go for that."

"What more can we offer?" Shira, the beautiful woman in the blue dress that Myles had held after Finn committed the shooting, says frustratedly in a strange, broken accent that matches the other grounders.

Bellamy looks tiredly over to her, his expression showing he's obviously not happy with whatever is being discussed in their corner. Myles can't hear what's happening over there, and a part of her hopes Bellamy never hears what's happening on her side. The Blake brother had managed to sleep, the man dozed for at least two hours while his team discussed their options, but his face doesn't appear rested.

"Then allow them more visitation," Alejo's strong voice cuts through to Myles' ears.

"That won't matter," Myles mumbles, not turning to look at them. "You don't want everyone being able to see him, it defeats the purpose. Allow visitation for specific people and make sure there are steps in place to ensure his safety. That's all they'll care about at the end of the day."

"Only high priority Sky People with no emotional connection," Lexa agrees, her tone somewhat detached. "If you believe the punishment is fair, extend your right leg," everyone does as instructed, the vote is unanimous. "Then it is decided. Once they are done, we will present our offer for the murderer."

The grounders go silent, turning in their chairs to face the Arkers as they talk, but Myles doesn't move to turn her body towards them until Marcus notices they're ready. Straightening up, the councillor taps Abby's arm and nods towards the grounders as Myles twists in her chair and brings a leg up onto the seat to wrap her arms around. Quickly finishing up whatever discussion they were having, the Arkers turn around to face them politely as Myles continues to stare at her boyfriends face, their worried eyes locked on each other's.

"I assume you've reached a conclusion," Abby queries, and Finn straightens in her peripherals.

"Yes," the commander agrees, "our Skaikru ambassador will explain to you our offer."

At Lexa's words, Myles' eyes fall shut in anguish and her head ducks as she look away from Bellamy for the first time in almost three hours. All eyes turn to the redhead while she rubs her eyes tiredly and sighs heavily.

"We have reached a unanimous decision for the punishment," Myles starts, her hazel gaze switching between Abby's and Marcus'. "But we haven't been able to agree on the time served."

"That's okay, sweetheart," Abby soothes as the red haired teens left arm jitters and she bounces her leg anxiously. "What are you proposing for the punishment?"

Hazel eyes dart over to Finn for the first time since Raven gave her speech, and who she once dubbed 'the Spacewalker' nods solemnly. As it turns out, the brown haired teen hadn't actually taken the infamous spacewalk that got him arrested. Raven had been the one to illegally venture out into space and Finn had covered for her by taking the blame when an airlock breach alarm gave them away. The brunette haired girl had already turned 18, meaning that if she had been the one to be arrested, Raven would've immediately been floated. Because Finn was underage, he was to be locked up in the Skybox until his 18th birthday, this being how Raven 'owed Finn her life'.

At the brown haired teens nod, Myles turns her eyes back to the Chancellors and continues, "we all agree that the form of punishment should be hard labour. Finn will be locked up, like in the Skybox, for eight hours every day, he will be required to work wherever he's needed under supervision for the other sixteen hours. Meals, water, clothing and appropriate shelter from the weather will be provided, as necessary. He will have guards to keep himself safe so that he can fulfil his sentence."

"Sick days will be not be included," Myles adds tiredly, her red eyebrows staying high on her forehead, "meaning that if he can't, for whatever reason, work, then he'll stay in prison but the days he doesn't work won't count as serving his sentence. Visitation will be granted so we can ensure he's being well taken care of, but we all agree that it should strictly be for high priority members of both societies with no emotional connection. Keep out the crazies that might try to break him out or hurt him."

"How often are we talking?" Marcus asks, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees.

"That will depend on how long his sentence will be," the commander answers. "The least that has been suggested is twice a month, at any time. The most we'd be open to accepting is once a week, but you aren't allowed to disrupt his labour."

"How are we supposed to be sure he's being taken care of," Bellamy grits out, "if we can't see for ourselves?"

"It won't be fun," Myles answers bitterly, "it won't be pleasant. It's hard manual labour, every day, for hours on end. All of the things they're willing to provide him with, the food, the shelter, the clothes – it's all to keep him in a state where he can physically work the sixteen hours. Other than that, it'll be exactly like the Skybox. Work periods will be the only association he has with the outside world. He will be guarded and commanders, Chancellors, councillors and healers will be able to come in and visit him, but they have to make sure they're not impeding his punishment."

"We're talking about making a child a slave," Marcus summarises slowly, his eyes staring at the grounders team.

"We're talking about repaying his debts," Lexa snaps, "this is our final offer."

Abby hesitates, "and what kind of timeframe are we talking about?" Bellamy throws up his arms angrily when the doctor doesn't refuse the suggestion, and he's not alone, several of the Arkers are clearly on edge at the proposition. "Hard labour isn't an unreasonable punishment. In fact, given the situation, I believe it's the most humane conclusion we've been able to come to. But, of course, our acceptance will depend on how long this treatment is to last. Aggie, how long are we talking?"

Myles swallows, her eyes flicking to Bellamy's nervously fidgeting form before landing on a drained Finn. Her exasperated expression must not sit well with the brown haired boy, because he grits his teeth.

"When I say we can't agree," the redhead elaborates slowly, turning back to Abby with an exhausted look. "I mean, we can't agree. At all. We've had everything from one month per death to a decade per death."

"We cannot allow a kid to be subjected to thirty years of enslavement," Sinclair rebukes loudly, "we'll be repeating mistakes from centuries ago that should never have happened!"

"Which is why Abby said our agreement would depend on the time to be served," Marcus replies calmly, before turning back to the grounders. "We have our own offer for you to consider," Lexa twists her head in intrigue, "the possibility to lower his sentence on the grounds of good behaviour."

"Explain it to me," the commander orders, her authoritative voice hard.

"Say we decide to sentence him to three months of hard labour for every death," Abby explains, leaning forward as she speaks. "But if Finn doesn't break any more laws and is compliant and well behaved throughout his time imprisoned, in only a few months he has the opportunity for your team to free him earlier. That way, as a reward for his good behaviour, instead of serving the entirety of the nine months, he only serves four months."

"We could set up a buffer period," Myles suggests, turning to Lexa when the grounders beside her only bristle in response to the Arkers. "If Finn serves his sentence well and you agree to free him earlier, make it so there is a period of time where he isn't allowed to break any other laws. A period where he has to be an upstanding citizen, for both societies, otherwise he'll have to go back."

Lexa lifts her head high, "Naidi sintaim gon won wamplei, jos badan op naidi sintaim gon bos gran thru. Ogeda gon hana, lid yo strechon fousad in." **[AN: "Ninety days for one(/each) death, only serve ninety days for good works. All for favour, bring forward your leg."]**

Red eyebrows draw as the words flow from the commanders mouth and Nyko leans in close to her ear to translate it. All seven of the grounders bring their legs forward, but Myles waits until she can understand what is being agreed upon before joining them.

Turning her head towards Nyko to hear his hushed words better, "She says ninety days for each death, only serve ninety days if he has good behaviour. All in favour, bring your leg forward."

Myles instantly brings her leg forward, her eyes flicking over to the Arkers as they whisper amongst themselves. Chewing nervously on her lip, hazel eyes jut over to an anxiously awaiting Finn who quickly meets her eyes. The redheads left arm jitters, and she slowly tears her gaze away from the brown haired teen on trial when the Arkers side of the tent goes quiet. It's silent for a moment as the Arkers look to the grounders group, and Lexa turns her gaze to Myles pointedly.

"We have agreed to a service length," Myles explains slowly, "three months for each death, so nine months for his whole sentence. If we deem he applies for good behaviour, he'll be let out after only three months."

"His buffer period would extend the remaining length of his sentence," the commander adds, her voice much steadier and stronger than the redheads had been.

"To summarise," Abby begins and Finn perks up in the corner of Myles' eyes, "nine months hard labour, three months if he has good behaviour, only having to spend the remaining six months abiding by the law. Members of our camps in high standing with no personal relationship to the boy can visit to ensure he's being properly cared for. Is that all correct?" Lexa nods sternly, quirking an eyebrow at the interim-chancellor, "all in favour, raise your hands."

Everyone raises their hands, Bellamy and Myles hesitating as a few of the grounders tentatively join them. Locking her hazel gaze on Finns brown, the boy deflates in relief, mouthing 'thank you' to the redhead. Myles nods shortly in response, turning her eyes down as the distant sound of a drill plagues her mind, keeping her gaze glued to the grass. Abby goes to speak up again, before Lexa cuts her off.

"I have one more request," the commander starts and hazel eyes whip over to her in confusion as the buzzing fades slightly. "It is tradition that our dead are burnt in a funeral pyre. The murderer is to be burnt with them, but since I have spared his life, I would like for him to honour our dead by sending them off."

"Sure," Finn replies easily, his voice raspy from emotion.

"Gustus," Lexa turns to the grounder who is always by her side, her bodyguard. "Tell them it is done."

The man immediately stands, walking out of the tent and leaving everyone else inside. An awkward silence follows as Abby leans forward, resting her forearms on her knees.

"I think it's time we discuss Lincoln," the doctor starts and Myles can't help closing her eyes and bringing her hand up to her face in frustration. She knows exactly how this will go, it being the one thing she hasn't been able to agree with the grounders on. "I understand in the eyes of your people, he's a traitor. I'm hoping that we can give both your people and Lincoln some justice here."

"Lincoln is one of your people now," Lexa's hard voice declares loudly. "He made his choice. He is to honour our truce as your people would, but I cannot allow a traitor to interfere with the battle. If he does not obey the agreements made here, he will pay with his life. Am I clear?"

"Very," Abby answers, and Myles clenches her jaw as she locks her eyes on Bellamy's. "I would like to thank you and your people for your hospitality and graciousness in handling these matters."

Tilting her head up, the commanders loud voice booms once again, "Nyko, prepare Finn of the Sky People to leave for Tondc." Turning her eyes to Myles, "we are to discuss the funeral. Everyone else is to leave."

Hazel eyes snap towards the commander as chairs scrape against the ground around them. Lexa's brown eyes stay on hers through flutters of people standing and leaving the tent. Bellamy stutters in her peripherals, and hazel swivel to look at him.

"Aggie," the Blake brother prompts quietly, his feet shuffling hesitantly.

"I'm okay," Myles assures her boyfriend lovingly, "go. I'll be out soon."

Sighing heavily, deep brown eyes stare into hers worriedly before he moves to leave the tent as well, his unsure gaze flicking back to her. As he slips through the tent flap, Indra stalks in, her on edge nature accentuated by her stiff posture. Standing, Abby and Marcus are all that's left of the Arkers and they make their way to the centre of the tent as Myles gets up to meet them there. Lexa and Indra walk over to the commanders throne when Raven's distraught shouts echo through the camp.

"Blood has not answered blood," Lexa's voice declares as she sits upon her throne, her hard eyes switching between the Arkers. "Some on my side say that's not good enough, but only time will tell. They want the murderer to suffer as our tradition demands. But they do not know that his suffering, and the suffering of the girls out there, will be worse."

"I made a choice," Myles replies, "I just hope that it will be right for both of our people."

"There will be restitution," the commander agrees, "he will give the bodies back to the people of Tondc. Murderer and murdered joined by fire, a demonstration that our traditions will be shared with your people. Only then can we have peace."

"No," Marcus refuses, shaking his head and stepping towards the commander. "No, we've done enough. We don't need to send more than a few of our people for the ceremony, there will be no demonstration."

"Enough?" Indra spits in disbelief, her hand resting menacingly on the handle of her sword, but Myles doesn't take her eyes off of Lexa's. "We were owed the pain of three deaths. We were owed our righteous kill. My village deserves justice."

"You don't want justice," Abby seethes angrily, the stress of the last few days piling on top of her quickly. "You want vengeance."

"You have not seen my vengeance," Indra proclaims, stepping towards the doctor threateningly and hazel turn to the woman.

"I stole that from you," Myles interrupts their bickering, and Indra's dark eyes flick to hers. "I took your justice, your vengeance and I'm sorry for that. I hope that Finns punishment will provide a more… lucrative benefit than his death ever could have." Indra's face flashes with something, and when she opens her mouth to continue, Myles turns back to Lexa, "we'll do it. But when it's over, we will talk about how to get our people out of Mount Weather. All of our people."

"We want the same things, Myles," Lexa announces slowly, "this is why I have forfeited our justice for terms we both agree on."

"I thank you for that," the redhead nods, "when do we leave?"

"Now," the commander proclaims, standing up straight and fixing Marcus with a hard look. "Choose your attendants."

Lexa steps off of the small platform keeping her throne elevated from the ground and Myles turns, catching Marcus' proud eyes as she quickly stalks to leave the commanders tent. The people behind her stay silent until she flings the material aside and steps out under the dark early morning sky. Immediately, a huge weight is lifted from her shoulders, allowing her to take a deep breath in and relax her tensed muscles slightly.

"Hey," Bellamy's deep voice rumbles from her left. His long strides reach her quickly, and he instantly engulfs her in a loving embrace. Myles sighs, lifting her arms up to wrap tightly around his tall form, "this'll work. We'll be okay."

"Yeah," the red haired girl agrees against his chest, pulling back hesitantly when her hazel eyes land on one of the warriors standing guard in front the tent and eyeing them. Sliding her hand to thread her fingers through his, she tugs her boyfriend away from the grounders bitter prying eyes. "How's Raven?"

"How am I?" Raven spits from her spot sat on the ground with Clarke by her side, sitting beside the large tent. "How do you think?"

"Raven," Myles starts softly, stepping towards the two girls haltingly as Bellamy squeezes her hand. "I'm sorry."

Flying to her feet, a teary Raven marches up to the redhead, "you were supposed to save him!"

"Raven, whoa," Bellamy interjects, pulling his arm up between them when the brunette shoves his girlfriend angrily.

"I know how hard this must be for you," Myles tries carefully, flicking her eyes to an emotionally drained Clarke when she stands up. "For both of you," turning back to Raven who has tears streaming down her face, "But I'm leaving with Finn and the grounders, and we need you to keep working on the radio."

"Leaving?" Clarke's empty voice repeats and Bellamy shakes his head as his urgent deep brown eyes stare at her hazel eyes.

"The funeral?" Bellamy questions, pulling her attention away from the two girls. "No, Aggie. You're not going with them."

"We have to," Myles asserts when Ravens spots a bound Finn being escorted into a fray of grounders preparing to leave.

"Where is he going?" Raven demands, leaving the Arkers to chase after her ex-boyfriend. The warriors erupt in a slew of bitter shouts, but none of them move towards the teen, "What are you doing?!"

Finn looks to them as Myles grips Ravens arm to stop her, "they need to take him now."

"Like hell they do!" Raven spits at the redhead, forcefully shoving Myles' arm away from her. "Get off!"

"Raven," Bellamy says softly and teary brown eyes look over them with bitter betrayal when they hold her back. Tilting his head to look at his girlfriend, "you agreed to this?"

"We're taking him back to the village where the killings took place," Myles explains, her gaze jumping from the hysterical brunette to the detached blonde. "There's a death ritual. It's the only way to keep him alive and get our people out of Mount Weather."

"They'll kill him," Clarke mutters brokenly, her expression pleading with the couple and Raven stills. "He can't go back there, you're sending him to his death."

"It's the only way to give him a chance," Bellamy's gruff voice reasons, and a dark look flutters across their faces.

"Then I'm coming too," Raven declares strongly through her tears, her face screwing up angrily as she steps close to the redhead. "And don't worry, I'll bring your damn radio."

Raven shoves past the couple, and Myles sighs heavily, turning her hazel eyes up to the black early morning sky. Bellamy wraps an arm around her shoulders, causing her loving gaze to shift to his fleetingly before landing on Clarke. The blonde hesitates, looking as drained and distressed as Myles feels.

"If," tears shine in her blue eyes and her mouth moves quietly as she struggles for words. "If this truce doesn't hold, if you're wrong, you've killed him."

"Then let's make it hold," the red haired teen promises, turning her eyebrows up in a worried frown.

The sun hangs high in the midday sky as they march through the leaf-less winter trees to get to Tondc. A dozen grounders man the front, idle chatter in their language floating through the cool air with the peaceful sounds of bird songs. Finn is being escorted not far in front the couple, his form fluttering into sight every few minutes and Raven itches to make eye contact as she sits on a horse carriage carrying the grounders supplies.

Raven had been walking for hours, but her limp had gotten to the point that she was struggling to even stand on her own. The commander had seen her pitiful scuffling and has let her sit with their supplies on their journey. Myles' stolen pistol rubs the skin of her ankle raw as they walk, the metal warming and pinching her ankle with every step, and the redhead can't help the small bubbles of envy that flitter through her aching body when she looks at Raven. Every now and then, the brunette will turn her scornful eyes to the redhead and Bellamy will squeeze the hand he holds tightly in a silent show of support.

Gulping, Myles tears her hazel eyes away from the path in front of her when Raven turns back to glare at her again. Still feeling the teens searing brown gaze on her, Myles looks over her shoulder at Clarke, Abby and Marcus. Clarke has been eerily silent, barely saying a word since they've left. Her tired blue eyes meet hers as Myles tries to shift the bag that starts to slip off of her shoulder with her broken hand. Myles' splint-covered hand stills when Lexa and her guard, Gustus, halt their quiet conversation behind the Arkers, their eyes snapping to hers while their horses walk slowly over the Earth.

"Relax," Bellamy soothes softly, squeezing his girlfriends hand and effectively grabbing her attention. "You doing alright?"

Flicking her gaze to where Finns head bobs in and out of view, "Yeah. I hope everyone else is."

"You did the right thing," the Blake brother promises, rubbing his thumb over the hand he holds. "You saved his life."

"Not yet," Myles mutters quietly, meeting his loving gaze. "We'll find out in nine months," Bellamy looks over his shoulder at the people behind them, and clenches his jaw. "You still think this truce is a bad idea, don't you?"

"I think we're wasting time with politics," Bellamy starts, turning back around to watch where he steps as they walk. "While our friends are in trouble."

"With the reapers and the mountain men," the red haired teen sighs, flicking her eyes to him, "we're severely outnumbered. We need their army to get in and get them out."

"Their army has been getting their ass kicked by Mount Weather forever," the Blake brother argues quietly. "What we need is an inside man," Myles grits her teeth and turns her gaze away, a sharp pang soaring through her chest. "Someone to be our eyes and ears." Pointedly not looking at him and breathing in a deep breath, Myles tries to think of alternatives, "you don't think it's a good idea."

"No," Myles disagrees, tapping her splint against her hip anxiously. "Its exactly what I would do if they hadn't already seen my face. It's a great idea, that's why I hate it."

Bellamy barks out a laugh, "glad you're on my team, Ghost."

"Don't get too excited, your majesty," the redhead drawls out, scanning her eyes over the long line of warriors trailing behind them. "If we're gonna do it, we'll have to wait until after the ceremony. It'll give me some time to think of a less risky plan."

"What is there to think about?" Bellamy mutters, her nervous gaze putting him on edge and making him do his own curious sweep over the army. "If you guys made it out, I can make it in."

Myles squeezes his hand, making his deep brown eyes meet her adoring hazel, "you're 'what's there to think about'." The Blake brother tilts his head kindly, his deep brown eyes sparkling with _that_ look, "I can't let you go in there if there's a plan that doesn't put you at risk. I just need to think of it."

"Okay," Bellamy agrees, lifting their connected hands and hooking them over Myles' head so his arm holds her flush to his side and their hands rest against her chest. Leaning over and pressing a kiss to her hair, "We'll think about it."

Myles squeezes his hand again to get him to pull his face away from resting against her hair and look at her. Flicking her hazel eyes to his lips and back up to meet his loving gaze again, Myles tries to lean up slightly as they walk. Bellamy catches the motion, ducking his head down to press his lips to hers and kissing her deeply. Smiling into his mouth, Myles readily reciprocates the sweet kiss until Marcus clears his throat harshly behind them.

Pulling away and giggling, hazel eyes lock on Bellamy's mischievous deep brown and a huge grin spreads across his face. Huffing a light laugh, the Blake brother shakes his head endearingly.

"Trouble."

Darkness falls swiftly, the winter days being much shorter than their first few weeks on Earth. The commander had decided to stop for the night beside an old rusty sign, the only readable remnants of what was once there says, 'ton D.C. – 10 miles'. It hadn't taken long to set up the tents quickly, Lexa's mammoth of a tent taking mere minutes in the experienced grounders hands.

Myles grits her teeth together, scanning her hazel eyes over the grounders as they set up their makeshift beds distinctly separate from where she stands with Bellamy beside Abby and Clarke's tent. Neither of the couple have put their packs down yet, not erecting a tent as they stand beside the interim-Chancellors fire for warmth. It's not a good look, Myles decides, making an alliance and then drawing such a loud line between the two of them.

Sighing, Myles fidgets with the bag over her shoulder and pulls her hand from Bellamy's as she walks over the the grounders side. Bellamy bristles at the action, making a startled sound, but doesn't move to follow her straight away. Walking to a spot between several grounders, Myles recognises one as the man she rode a horse with. Plopping her bag down amongst them, the redhead bends down and starts to pull out her bedroll, seeing Bellamy's anxious feet shuffling in the corner of her eyes.

"Is it alright if I sleep here, Gali?" Myles asks politely when he looks at her as she shakes out her bed. Gali's eyes give her a dismissive once over, a small stunned smirk touches his face and he grunts, turning away. It's not a refusal, so Myles lays her bedroll on the ground, "Thank you."

Bellamy's nervous energy gets the better of him, his boots no longer hesitating as they cautiously stride over to his girlfriend. When his boots stop in front of her, she flicks her gaze up to his worried eyes.

"Aggie," the Blake brother starts quietly, "it's safer on our side."

"We need to trust them, Bell," Myles refuses kindly, smoothing out her bed. "How can we expect them to trust us if we don't do the same thing?" Something flickers across his face as the red haired teen lies down on the bedroll, waiting for him to join her before pulling the material up. "There are no more sides."

Bellamy drops his bag, and hazel eyes sparkle while they look up at him, "you're very convincing, you know that?"

Myles giggles and Bellamy plops down beside her with a grunt, tugging up the material of her bedroll and laying his on top to keep them both warm. Clarke appears beside them when Bellamy wraps his arms around the redhead tightly, as if his arms alone could protect her from the world. The blonde quickly gets to work, pulling out her bedroll and dropping it down beside her red haired friend.

"Have to start somewhere," Clarke mutters, lying down with a sigh. "If you two start doing anything, I'm leaving."

"Where," Myles laughs, rolling over as much as she can in the small bedroll to face the blonde, "is your sense of adventure?"

"I'm being serious," Clarke deadpans, levelling the couple with a hard stare.

Myles snorts obnoxiously as Bellamy's chest rumbles slightly against her, "always are, princess."

"Slak dou au!" One of the grounders at the front of the army shouts when a wall of scrap logs and rusted pieces of metal comes into sight. **[AN: "Open the gate!"]**

The commander and Gustus, her guard, are at the front this morning, riding their horses in clear view of the people in Tondc with the Arkers right behind them. Finn is a ways back today, unable to be seen in the sea of heads when Myles turns around and the exhausted redhead can't help but be grateful that Lexa had made that decision.

Myles hadn't gotten more than some restless dozing last night, seeing as anxiety had pumped through her veins hotly at the thought of being zapped back to Mount Weather. Humiliation hung heavily over her head at the possibility of another freak out surrounded so closely by all of these people. The stress of the last few weeks is quickly mounting on her shoulders, crushing her slowly with every painful reminder.

A drill buzzes quietly in the back of her mind, taunting her with the sounds of shoes scuffling and drawers opening and closing. It's like background noise, as if the world has a traumatising song playing constantly in the background and messes around with the volume randomly. The incredibly disorienting noises of her memories tempts her to let go and fully be entangled back into them, but the redhead tries to stay as focussed on her surroundings as possible to ward them off. A dark thought haunts her mind, telling her that she's dreaming, and the sounds she's hearing are what's happening around her unconscious form in Mount Weather. It causes the sharp tug in her chest to pull harder and harder as the thought bounces around her head freely.

The mash of materials shifts with a loud creak, opening for the commander and part of her army. Lexa and Gustus gracefully slide off of their horses, before turning to the halted Arkers behind them. Grounders start pulling out their weapons, but they don't appear threatening, and red eyebrows dance around curiously.

"Shuda daun," one of the warriors shouts out loudly, as they approach a tub and deposit their weapons into it. **[AN: "weapons down."]**

"Weapons," Gustus' gruff voice translates for the Arkers, and Bellamy fidgets, sending a hesitant glance to Myles as she instantly starts pulling her weapons.

Lincoln comes up beside her after she hands the handgun tucked into her waistband to Gustus, her hazel eyes locking on the guards as a challenge. The dark skinned man hands Gustus his knife, and Myles quickly dumps the three blades she had tucked away on her upper body into the crudely made, rusted metal tub.

"We need to disarm before we enter," Lincoln elaborates when the redhead ducks down to pull the last knife she had tucked into one of her left sock.

Stepping back without giving up the small pistol tucked into her other shoe and hidden under her jeans, Clarke and Bellamy offer up their weapons. They dump them into the bin as Gustus tears his eyes away from Myles' to walk down the path and collect the weapons from the others. Silence behind her makes her turn around, and Bellamy looks at her before casting his eyes in the same direction as hers. Raven stands there, not moving an inch in a silent battle with Gustus, forcing the man to pick the blades off of her.

Red eyebrows shoot up, sending a worried glance to Bellamy's equally as concerned deep brown eyes. Gustus spins Raven around to check for more weapons and the brunette doesn't even bat an eyelash. Once the grounder is content there's nothing on her back, he spins her back around to face him. Ravens brown eyes are dark in a bitter challenge as they stare into Gustus' eyes scornfully, but the man pays her no mind, turning around to look at Lexa who patiently waits for them at the front.

"Heda," Gustus calls, and the commander lifts her chin up in acknowledgment. "Em klir." **[AN: "commander. All clear."]**

The commander nods once in answer and Gustus walks forward to stand beside her and Indra again, walking beside them as they enter the gate. Hazel eyes lock on her boyfriends deep brown, and Myles tilts her head as she offers up her good hand for the man to hold. Smiling slightly, Bellamy interlocks their fingers and they follow the commander inside the village. Light footsteps crunch behind them, the sounds echoing in the still winter air.

"Heda!" A man from inside of the village calls over the excited shouts that break out, "Heda! Monin hou!" **[AN: "commander! Commander! Welcome back!"]**

Once the Arkers walk through the gate, men stand with their weapons on guard in alarm.

"Hakom yu don lid emo in hir?" A voice asks over the increasingly loud chatter. **[AN: "why have you brought them here?"]**

Bellamy squeezes her hand tightly, the distressed and angry voices putting them both on edge. Lexa doesn't move to dismiss them and Myles can't help the panicked glance she shoots back to Finn, watching as people throw things angrily at the bound teen when he is dragged through the gate. A shout close to her face makes her look back in front of her, seeing angry grounders lean in close to them while they walk past, shouting in their faces.

"Wamplei gon Skaikru!" A woman's voice screams out, "Ripa gon we hou!" **[AN: "Death to the Sky People! Murderers go home!"]**

Lexa and Gustus slow to a stop when a man steps in front of them, heaving with his eyebrows drawn angrily.

"Skaikru don jak ething op kom ai: ai houmon, don led ai yongon – " the man spits out emotionally, his sorrowful eyes scanning the faces in front of him as his face twists in despair and cold spikes of pain shoot through Myles' chest. **[AN: "Sky People took everything from me: my wife, wounded my child – "**

"Sef uf!" Gustus calls back, and Myles can see Finn being slowly brought up behind the Arkers in the mans glassy eyes. **[AN: "move aside!"]**

The heartbroken mans eyes turn cold when they switch to Finn, "ripa nou ge teik in hir." **[AN: "murderers are not welcome here."]**

Lexa turns her head to Gustus, and he instantly steps towards the heartbroken man. Myles can't help the surge of panic that floods through her at the action, or how her boots step forward in a blind attempt to help the poor man. The hand clutched tightly in hers tugs her back just as Gustus rears his arm back and punches the grieving man in the face. Shock flashes through her, much like the gasps that flutter through the crowd behind her, as she watches the man go flying to the soggy ground. Gustus doesn't stop there, instead falling to his knees and continuing to brutally beat up the distraught man.

Tearing her hand from Bellamy's when she sees Gustus isn't stopping, Myles practically falls over her feet to reach the commander.

"Heda," Myles breathes the word the grounders call her desperately, her frantic hazel eyes flicking all over the young woman's stoic face. "Heda, stop him. Please." Lexa doesn't flinch or move a muscle, and the icy hopeless feeling pumping through her veins only intensifies with every crunching blow Gustus inflicts on the man. Shaking her head as tears fill her eyes, "There's been so much pain here, please, don't let us cause any more. He's just trying to protect them. Please."

The commanders eyes glance towards her, but they don't meet her pleading hazel. Lexa swallows, clenching her jaw and Myles has enough. Ignoring Bellamy's begging hands, the redhead dives towards Gustus as he punches the helpless man and pulls on his arm. Gustus doesn't slow his brutal assault, so Myles slides to her knees in the mud and forces herself between the two men breathlessly.

"Stop," Myles begs with her hands held up in surrender at Gustus when his hands hesitate. Her back is lying across the beaten mans chest, trying to protect his pummelled face, "please."

Gustus rears his arm back again, but this time his dark eyes are locked on the redhead and it stills her quick breaths. Bellamy tries to surge forward to her rescue behind the man, but Lincoln's strong arms hold him back just as Lexa's commanding voice halts Gustus' descending fist.

"Teik em kik raun," the commander orders, and Gustus instantly stills. **[AN: "let them live."]**

Gustus stands over them threateningly and Myles immediately clambers off of the coughing man beneath her. The mans pale face is now bloodied and almost unrecognisable as his whole body shifts with the force of his heavy choking sounds. Her good hand shakes into sight when it lifts up to gently feel around his broken skin.

"You're okay," Myles breathes out, and the kind and loving hands of Bellamy Blake land on her back. The redhead adds when the bloodied mans brown eyes lock on hers, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, you're okay." The man tries to speak, but Myles quickly shakes her head when pitiful and wet grunts are all that escape him, "no, I got you." Sliding her arm under his, Bellamy helps her lift the man to his feet and hold him up. Myles flicks her hazel eyes over to the curiously watching grounders, before landing on Lincoln, "where do we take him?"

"The house with a red door," Lincoln answers, nodding at them, "across from the dining hall."

"Okay," Myles breathes, turning around despite the fact that 'red door' was all she took away from that. "We'll find that."

They start walking, and Shira appears beside her, touching her arm gently. Shira smiles warmly, walking in front of them and leading the couple through the village.

"This way," Shira instructs kindly, directing them in the opposite direction than they were heading.

"Thank you," Bellamy replies softly, nodding his head at her as they follow her.

"The Sky People march with us now," Lexa's strong and commanding voice bellows through the silent village. "The murderer will repay his debts with hard labour. Anyone who tries to stop that… will pay with their life."

"They won't be happy with this," Shira warns them quietly, opening the red door to a house and letting the couple carrying the man enter first. The breath leaves Myles all at once at the carnage inside of the small house, several people who are sick and wounded look up at them, meeting her eyes. Shira shuts the door and brushes past the stunned to silence couple, "But if they see there are more like you, maybe they can be. Here."

Bellamy recovers first, walking forward and carefully lowering the beaten man onto an empty bed as two healthy women quickly come to attend to his wounds.

"Noni!" A young girls voice calls, and her voice gets an instant reaction from the wounded man. The bloodied man sits up, wordless grunts and feeble shouts erupting from him, "nontu!" **[AN: "Dad! Father!"]**

"No, Sindri," one of the women tries to soothe the man over the sounds of the crying child, "Sindri, yu souda dauntaim. Em ait, em ait." **[AN: "no, Sindri. Sindri, you must rest. It's okay, it's okay."]**

"Sindri?" Myles asks, and the mans frantic eyes lock on hers, "is that you little girl? Would you like me to go check on her?"

The teary man nods, his swollen face scrunching up as he stops resisting his nurses. Myles instantly straightens and spins to head towards the sound of the child calling out 'noni!' when Bellamy's hand grips her skinny arm.

"Aggie," his soft voice questions, but Myles doesn't slow when she speedily pulls away.

"Just a minute," the redhead calls back, "you can go wait with the rest, if you want. I'll only be a minute."

Myles reaches the young girl quickly and falls to her knees beside the makeshift bed. The crying girl stops calling out to look at the red haired teen, her eyes flickering with recognition.

"Hi," Myles greets softly, her eyes landing on the wrapped wound on her shoulder. Lifting her hands so that they're both in sight, Myles points at her bandage, "Okay, would it be okay if I take a look at that?"

"She can't understand you," a man rasps beside her, coughing wetly. Myles' hazel eyes turn to his pale, sweat slicked face, and opens her mouth to say something, when he talks again. "Em gaf chek yu ledon au." **[AN: "she wants to look at your wound."]**

The little brown haired girl nods, sniffling, and lifts her shoulder slightly towards Myles, "thank you." Gently, the red haired teen unwraps the bandage just enough to see the wound and scrunches up her nose, "ouch." It's very obviously a gunshot wound, the bullet had gone straight through her small body and left a very angry hole in both sides of her shoulder, "some people can be really evil, can't they?" Gently prodding fingers confirm that no bullet is left behind, the bone feels intact and if there's any shrapnel, it can't be felt, "poor thing."

Bellamy hovers over her shoulder, crouching down and pressing his lips to Myles' hair lovingly, "poor kid. You're gonna be okay, kiddo, I promise."

"Do you have any garlic?" Myles quizzes the man watching her, "ginger? Echinacea?"

"We have garlic and ginger," one of the nurses comes up to them, eyeing the couple cautiously, "why?"

"It's infected," the red haired teen answers, taking her medkit out of her bag and laying it on the bed before pulling the rest of the bandage off. "I wouldn't make a paste, the bullets gone straight through her and putting any creams on it could do more damage to the exposed tissue." Rewrapping the wound with a fresh bandage, "A tea would be very effective."

"Ai na ai noni op?" The little girl questions quietly, her tired eyes begging the redhead. **[AN: "Can I see my dad?"]**

"She wants to see her dad," the sick man splutters out through a coughing fit, the wet hacking sound echoing in the small hut.

Thinking it through, Myles hesitates, "we have to be very careful, I don't want you up for too long."

"Em gaf yu na ge kefa," the nurse translates softly to the girl, and the beautiful child lights up. "Noumou ga liwe taim. Yu nou na ge op ga feva." **[AN: "she wants you to be careful. Only for a short time. You can't be up for long."]**

The excited little girl tries to sit up and both Myles and Bellamy quickly try to help her so she doesn't strain her injuries. Bellamy scoops her up carefully, being very mindful to keep the girls shoulder off of his chest, and Myles and the nurse stick close to him worriedly. Sindri's face lights up when he sees his daughter, and he tries to sit up to greet her. The nurse pushes him down, scolding him again while she cleans his face as Bellamy kneels down to let the girl see her father.

"Adara!" Sindri greets the young girl tearfully, "ai meizen gada." **[AN: "Adara! My beautiful girl."]**

"Chit don kom au gon yu, noni?" Adara cries, surging forward to hug her father. "Yu ste laksen!" **[AN: "what happened to you, dad? You're hurt!"]**

"Ai sou fiya," Sindri cries, hugging his daughter tightly as emotional hazel locks on soft deep brown eyes. "Moba. Ai don trana goch yu nomon klin. Moba." **[AN: "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I tried to avenge your mother. I'm sorry."]**

Movement behind the couple makes Myles tear her eyes away from the grieving family and turn around. An injured elderly woman hobbles out of the bed beside Sindri and Myles shoots to her side to help her.

"What do you need?" Myles asks, trying to gently steer her back towards the bed. "I'll get it for you."

The old woman waves her off kindly, "let Adara have my bed, goufa. I'll rest over here."

"How are you wounds?" Myles queries as she carefully helps the elderly woman into the young girls bed.

"I'm just waiting for that tea," the kind woman's voice wobbles when she speaks, "then I'll be right as rain." Myles smiles sweetly at her, tucking the blanket around her before the woman bats her hands away, "no need to fuss me, goufa, you have business out there. Don't leave Heda waiting."

"I'll be back with that tea," the red haired teen promises, grabbing her medkit and bag and makes her way over to Bellamy.

The Blake brother smiles lovingly at her before turning to the nurses, "they'll be okay? Switching beds?"

"Yes," the nurse replies easily, fussing over the young girl and making sure she's comfortable. "They'll be okay."

"Thank you," Sindri tearfully tells them and Bellamy stands beside Myles as they start moving to leave. "For helping us."

"You don't need to thank us," the redhead responds quickly, "I wish I could do more." The woman taking care of Adara leaves her side and Myles halts on her way to the door to quickly rush up to her. "Here," Myles offers, holding out her medkit when the nurses eyes only stare blankly at her. "It's a medkit. We carry them around with medical supplies in them." The nurse slowly takes the small yellow box from her hands and turns it over curiously, "if anything in that runs out, or you'd like some more of something, let us know. I'll bring more."

"Thank you," the woman replies strongly, her eyebrows drawn together in shock.

Myles walks back over to her boyfriend and threads her fingers through his as they walk towards the door. Turning back around to take one last look at the people in need she's leaving behind, she feels Bellamy still after he opens the door. Adara smiles at them both, lifting her good arm and waving goodbye to them. A sharp pang shoots through her chest as they both wave back, muttering their polite goodbyes before stepping through the threshold.

The world outside of that house feels much more still and quiet, not a soul in sight as they trudge over the muddy ground to look for the grounders army. Bellamy squeezes her hand before hooking their interlocked hands over her shoulder and pulling her close, planting a loving kiss to her head. It doesn't take long to find the rest of their people or the grounders, soft chatter floating in the air to them from where they're standing in front of a large wooden pyre. The Arkers stand on one side, a bound Finn to their left between them and Gustus as the last body is carefully placed on the wooden structure.

Coming to a stop beside Lincoln, the commander and Indra both watch the couple curiously. An ice cold shiver runs through Myles' body at the sight of the three bodies on the pyre, knowing that their families are here and feel like they're not getting justice. Raven and Clarke are both staring at Finn openly, remorse and grief plastered across both of their faces. When the grounders step away from the funeral pyre, Indra lights a torch in a fire pit and Lexa tears her prying eyes away from the couple to look at the wooden structure.

"Kru kom Tondisi," the commanders voice booms through the village loudly. "Raun faya, oso wada klin laudnes-de kom foutaim."

Lincoln translates quietly, "people of Tondc… in fire, we cleanse the pain of the past."

Indra hands the fire-lit torch to Lexa, who stares at the dead bodies for a moment before passing the torch to Finn. The brown haired boys bound hands hold the thick wooden stick nervously, and the grounders eye him apprehensively. Finn steps up to the pyre, stopping beside the commander and slowly bringing the flame to light the kindling that lay packed into the wooden logs. His face is pale, almost as if the weight of his actions have completely taken root inside of him at the sight of their bodies. Shaking arms pull the torch back when flames flicker inside the pyre on their own.

"Yu gonplei ste odon," Myles' strong voice declares into the silent village, and Bellamy's arm tightens around her shoulders. **[AN: "your fight is over."]**

Heads snap towards her, the grounders faces coloured in grief and shock at the words leaving an Arkers mouth. Indra and Lexa's eyes are the only ones who don't turn away as Finn leans down to toss the lit torch onto the blazing wooden logs. Both women tilt their heads up when Myles looks back at them, finally turning their respecting gazes back to the burning bodies. Not even the birds sing as a somber silence cloaks the village, the only sounds coming from the crackling of the fire that burns in front of them.

Thick heat contrasts the cold winter air, making beads of sweat sit uncomfortably on Myles' skin, but she can't bear to tear herself away from the bodies as they burn. The distinctive smell of burnt flesh blocks her nose, the stench getting caught in her nostrils and scratching at the back of her throat nauseatingly. A warm orange glow flutters across the faces of the people paying their respects to the dead grounders, heartbroken tears and grief-stricken eyes shining in the brilliant light.

Crisp morning sunlight morphs under the dull early afternoon sky, but the flickering flames persist. The bodies shrink and shrivel as they blacken, the strong scent of burnt hair and skin being carried through the soft gusts of wind and wafting into the surrounding woods. Remorseful silence finally ends when the wooden structure starts to collapse, signalling Lexa to turn to her army. Calculating brown eyes scan the faces for a moment, before her authoritative voice shakes the Earth beneath their feet.

"Gali," the commander calls, "Hieri, Bora, Tori. Deliver the murderer to Polis, and lock him in the prison. If any harm is to come to him, it will be taken as a threat to our alliance. Am I clear?"

Choruses of agreements float from the warriors, but the commanders words only seem to relight a desperate panic inside of Raven. The grounders called upon step forward to apprehend Finn, who calmly meets them halfway.

"No," Raven sobs, trying to surge forward and reach her ex-boyfriend. Marcus grabs her arms, and Bellamy pulls away from Myles to help try and settle her down. "You can't. Why are you letting them do this?"

Myles is frozen, she can't shift her hazel eyes away from the hysterical girl. Vaguely, the redhead registers Lexa say something to the grounders with Finn, and they drop their arms, letting Finn surge forward. Marcus and Bellamy release their hold on the sobbing brunette, and the two exes crash together in tight embrace.

"It's okay," Finn whispers over and over again, his wide brown eyes filled with resignation.

"They'll kill you," Raven cries, her whole body shuddering in despair. "You're all I have."

"It's okay," the brown haired boy says sternly, pulling back lift his bound hands over her head again and hold her face, staring calmly into her eyes. "We'll be okay. You're not alone anymore." Raven shakes her head sadly, pitiful choking sounds escaping her lips, "it's okay. I have to go."

Raven pulls back when Marcus and Abby approach the boy, speaking soft words that the redhead can't hear from her spot. Teary scornful brown eyes turn to her, the mechanics face scrunching up in pain as she shuffles her feet across the hard mud. Octavia and Lincoln share quick goodbyes, their sorrowful expressions dull when they give the brown haired teen friendly claps on his shoulder. Bellamy embraces Finn, patting his back and muttering about seeing him soon when Raven snaps.

"You did this," the brunette spits, falling to her knees and sobbing.

The Blake brother steps back to stand beside his girlfriend as Clarke and Finn hug tightly, but hazel eyes are glued to the distraught brunette kneeling in the mud. Clarke says something softly that Myles doesn't catch, but the bright look that flashes across Finns face shines brighter than the flames behind them. It's gone almost as quickly as it came, falling into a muted blissful expression.

"Thanks, princess," the brown haired boy mutters, before pulling back and turning to Myles. Hazel eyes flick up from the sobbing mechanic and meet his gaze, feeling as if the guilt coursing through her veins will make her eyes pop out of their sockets. "I'm gonna miss you, gorgeous," Finn smiles sadly, lifting his bound hands up to pull Myles into a kind hug.

Hazel eyes squeeze shut as a shaky sigh falls from her rosy lips, whispering out, "I'm sorry I couldn't get you out of this one, Spacewalker."

"You did," the brown haired boy replies softly, squeezing her tightly, "Thank you, for everything."

Finn goes to pull away, but the red haired teen tightens her grip and opens her eyes, "I know prison can be boring, but try to keep out of trouble for me."

"No promises," Finn jokes quietly, patting her back and pulling away.

The four warriors are patiently waiting, all of the grounders eyes are on the Arkers as Finn is escorted away. Raven weakly jumps back to her feet, and tearfully tries to follow her ex-boyfriend, but Marcus and Bellamy quickly keep her in place. Her heart-wrenching sobs fade to silent streams of tears by the time Finn is completely out of sight, and hazel eyes turn back to the three bodies burning slowly on the pyre.

"We will have an alliance banquet this afternoon," the commander declares, "when no flames are left."

"Thank you," Abby replies, her tone sincere. "We would be honoured."

Grounders start to dissipate, slowly scattering inside their village to continue on with their lives. The Arkers take this as a dismissal, politely edging away from the heat emitting from the funeral pyre. Bellamy's kind hand wraps around her arm before his loving voice is heard over the faint buzzing of a drill.

"Come on," the Blake brother urges softly, but Myles doesn't tear her hazel eyes away from the burning bodies. "Lincoln's taking us somewhere out of the way to wait until the banquet."

"You go," Myles declines, meeting his loving deep brown eyes fleetingly. "I think I'll stay here for a little bit more."

The mans hesitant boots shift in the mud below them, "are you sure?"

Humming, Myles looks back at him again with a soft smile, "Yeah. I just… need a minute."

"Okay," Bellamy breathes after a minute, leaning forward to press a kiss to her head before slipping his hand down to squeeze her hand. Bellamy ducks his head towards hers and crashes his lips to hers, making her mind go silent. Her veins burn and feel as if they vibrate at the slow and sweet way his soft lips move against hers. The familiar smell of pine and sweat flitters through her nose over the heavy stench of burnt remains, comforting her and making her smile against his lips. Pulling away, Bellamy keeps his face pressed against hers, "I won't be far."

Tugging away slowly, Bellamy walks after the rest of the Arkers and Myles turns her distracted gaze back to the fire. The flickering flames are mesmerising, accompanying the distant whirring of a drill with subtle flashes of white coats, green eyes and large needles that dance inside of the orange glow. Slowly, the world around the redhead is swallowed by the gradually reducing blaze, keeping her stuck in the middle of the muddled lines that separate the past and the present.

Movement to her left jars her disoriented view on the world, forcing her eyes to blink back into focus. Red eyebrows draw together at the sight of the completely collapsed pyre, only a few charred logs and bones sit in the dark, smouldering ash. Glimpses of small orange flames poke out from behind a block of wood, and Myles is left wondering how long she's been here staring at the pyre. Flicking her hazel eyes to the left subtly, the red haired teen sees that the commander has silently joined her.

"You grieve," the commanders voice is as hard and stoic as it always is, "for the lives of those you do not know."

"They deserved a better fate," Myles states, not taking her eyes off of the burning structure.

A strangely comfortable beat of silence follows, before Lexa relays, "Nyko tells me Skaikru have their own way of saying goodbye to the dead."

"A poem," the red haired teen nods her head slowly. The commander turns her head to look at the redhead imploringly, and Myles continues, "I didn't feel right saying it. They deserved a proper farewell."

"The dead are gone, Myles," the brunette tells her flatly, "the living are hungry. They have had their farewell, it's time we have ours."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, the red haired teen recites slowly, "In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground. May we meet again."

"You told me," Lexa starts quietly after another few moments of silently watching the last flame flicker in the ash. "They were his ex-girlfriends."

"They are," Myles confirms, tilting her head but still not looking at the young woman.

"Neither of them look like they are," the commander calmly refutes. Myles doesn't say anything, knowing the scene both girls had put on display for the grounders would've painted quite a different picture. "Clarke loves him."

Hazel eyes dart to look at Lexa through the corner of her eyes, her tone intriguing the redhead, "she does."

"I lost someone special to me, too," Lexa tells Myles softly, not taking her gaze off of the pyre. "Her name was Costia. She was captured by the ice nation whose queen believed she knew my secrets. Because she was mine…" the commander takes a steadying breath and Myles turns her head to look at her. "They tortured her. Killed her. Cut off her head."

"I'm so sorry," Myles breathes, her red eyebrows drawn together in a worried frown. "That's horrible."

"Since you will not accept your calling as Skaikru's leader," Lexa sighs out, "Clarke will have to get over the pain."

"Is that what you did?" Myles wonders softly, curiosity burning through her brain.

"Yes," the commander answers, before turning and locking her hard eyes on the red haired teens hazel. "Love is weakness."

"Sure is," the redhead wholeheartedly agrees, turning her gaze away.

"You believe that love is weakness," Lexa drawls out in confusion, "and yet you are in love."

Red brows dance across delicate features when Myles looks back at the young woman, "it's risky, and it's weakness. The trick is finding someone who makes you believe that being weak and taking that risk is worth it."

"And you have done that?" Lexa questions, her commanding voice twinging with intrigue.

"Maybe," the redhead nods, her hazel gaze going back to the smouldering remains. "There aren't many people who deserve Bellamy Blake, but one of them will come by one day and they'll make him happy in ways I never could. That's a risk I'm willing to take." Lexa looks at the fire, seeming satisfied when Myles speaks again, "may I offer you some advice?"

Brown eyes meet her hazel, before the commander nods once, "when it comes to Clarke, it's very easy to get her to fall in love with you." At the blondes name, the young woman's face twitches, "the part where everyone seems to fail is they think it ends there. She puts her all into everything she does, but for that you need to keep her in love with you."

"What makes you think this will help me?" Lexa enquires defensively, her brown eyes hardening behind the black dust smeared across her face.

"There's only one thing that makes you weaker than love," Myles answers easily, shrugging a shoulder lazily.

The commander squints her eyes, "and what's that?"

"A lonely heart," the red haired teen supplies, keeping their gazes locked.

"Come," Lexa urges after a moment, turning her head to check on the smokey ashes from the pyre, "it's time for the banquet."

"Actually," Myles declines as the commander starts to walk away. "I promised some people tea."

Myles is standing between Bellamy and Marcus in front of two tables covered in an array of foods. Fruits, vegetables and nuts, mashed and whole, sit on the left end of two tables pressed together, two stuffed and cooked pigs in the middle, and bread, pasta and rice on the right end. Scattered amongst the foods are different kinds of sauces, seasoning and spreads, short candles illuminating the feast in the dining hall. Plates heaped with the delicious smelling food line the table and cutlery lay stacked on the very left end as people politely wait to be given the go ahead.

Grounders stand around the table, spread out, but the Arkers present stick together to one side with Lincoln, and it makes Myles feel claustrophobic. Pleasant idle chatter deafens the room, the light atmosphere being accentuated by the noise. A smile threatens to tear the skin on Myles' face as she pushes herself into Bellamy's arm around her shoulders and talks to one of the grounders beside her.

"…they call it the dai houpgeda," a beautiful blonde woman named Adelia gushes excitedly.

"Dai houpgeda?" Myles repeats, fully invested into the conversation.

The blonde woman's vibrant green eyes outshine the room, "yes, the Great Rainbow. The water is clear, but it's every shade of green and blue you could ever dream of. The waterfalls have many rainbows in them. My brother tells me there is even more colours in the night."

"And this is down south?" Bellamy asks, a kind smile gracing his sharp features.

"In Yujleda," Adelia confirms, nodding her head enthusiastically. "Two days walk south of the land narrowing."

Hazel eyes lock on relaxed deep brown, "sounds like a trip we'll have to make."

"Oh, you must," the blonde woman breathes, "it is the heart of happiness, many people go once they are married. There are caves that you can only reach by swimming, and the walls glow for you."

"Then we better learn to swim," the Blake brother quips, "it might be hard to enjoy it if we drown."

Blonde eyebrows draw together in confusion as her green eyes flick between them, "is there no swimming in space?"

Lexa clears her throat, interrupting the last few words of Adelia's sentence, and all of the grounders stop talking to step back. Myles follows suit, quickly accompanied by the rest of the Arkers and Bellamy slips his arm from around the redheads shoulders to stand up straight beside her. The now silent room allows Myles to be able to hear the sounds of three people shuffling down the short flight of stairs to join them.

Turning around, hazel eyes watch as Abby, Clarke and Raven enter and smile politely at the patiently waiting grounders, completing the attendance of all of the Arkers that came to Tondc. Clarke quietly walks up to the table and comes to a stop between Myles and Marcus, directly across from Lexa, Gustus and Indra. Abby hands something wrapped in a tattered material to Marcus who readily accepts it and shifts it in his hands.

"Please accept this gift, commander," Marcus politely offers and Myles' red eyebrows dance around her face in confusion. "We drink this at special occasions. I believe this qualifies."

Marcus pulls a glass bottle of clear alcohol out of the cloth and holds it out for the commander. Lexa looks at it, before nodding at Gustus who leans forward to take it from Marcus' hands. Gustus' face remains tight and stoic as he passes the liquor to the commander, who gracious accepts it.

"Thank you," Lexa replies warmly, locking her brown eyes on Marcus', "Marcus of the Sky People."

"You're welcome, Lexa," the councillor smiles, his tone light. "Kom Trikru," the commander tilts her head in amusement, "just, uh, don't drink too much of it." **[AN: "of the Tree people."]**

Lexa's brown eyes turn away, switching between Clarke and Myles, "Clarke, Myles, let us drink together."

"It would be our pleasure," Clarke accepts for the both of them, nodding her head slowly.

A scrawny man appears behind the commander and procedures three skinny, metallic chalices, holding them out carefully for Gustus to take them. Gustus sets the cups down on the table for Lexa to pour the alcohol into them, and hazel eyes lock on Clarke's blue fleetingly. The commander picks up two of drinks and holds them out for the teens who both lean over the table to grab them.

"Heda," Gustus interrupts once the two girls stand back again and Lexa picks up her own cup, "allow me."

Red eyebrows quirk up as Myles watches the warrior take a mouthful, the man locking his eyes on the teens in a silent challenge. Once he swallows and nothing happens, Gustus hands the cup back to the commander.

"Tonight," Lexa's strong voice announces, her eyes scanning the Arkers. "We celebrate our newfound peace. Tomorrow, we plan our war." Lifting up her chalice, "to those we've lost. And to those we shall soon find."

Myles lifts up her cup, tilting it in a silent 'cheers' as Clarke copies the commander. The three of them bring their cups to their mouths when Gustus collapses onto the table, guttural choking sounds belting out of his throat. Hazel eyes widen in shock as her muscles lock up, her confused gaze locked on the man as he flicks his fearful brown eyes up to them. Gustus clambers to stand, coughing and spluttering while he pushes off from the table to stumble backwards.

Plates and cutlery smash onto the ground in the mans struggle, his desperate breaths wheezing through his swelling throat. Grounders swarm the dying man, catching him when he falls harshly to the ground.

"It's poison!" A grounder exclaims over the rough and jagged grunts escaping the warrior.

The cup in her hand goes flying, and Myles' attention is jarred back to the present. Frantic hazel eyes snap to Bellamy as he throws her cup onto the ground and stands protectively in front of her, his strong arms reaching back to press her into his back. Clarke's chalice is calmly placed down on the table and the blonde takes stuttered steps back in alarm, her wide blue eyes trying to comprehend the scene.

Sharp scraping slices through the air as Indra pulls her sword on the Arkers, "it was the Sky People!"

Cold fear slithers through Myles' body as furious grounders shove the two tables apart and out of the way, causing more food to clatter to the floor. They're fucked, they have no weapons and the grounders are so pissed that there won't be any talking their way out of this one. Bellamy shuffles anxiously on his feet, trying to keep Myles away from the enraged warriors with their weapons pointed towards them. Blonde hair flies around in the corner of hazel eyes as Clarke tries to plead with them from Marcus' arms.

"This wasn't us," Clarke begs hopelessly, her voice barely being heard over Myles' panicked heart beats and the chaos that's overtaken the room. "You have to know it wasn't us!"

Lexa stands over Gustus, her angered brown eyes flicking from the Arkers to Gustus as Nyko desperately tries to help the dying warrior. The commander shouts something over the madness but Myles can't make out the words.

"Gon yo we!" Indra calls out loudly, her hard gaze shooting around the room as her sword stays pointed threateningly at the Arkers. "Pad emo daun!" **[AN: "everybody out! Search them!"]**

Fear stricken pale hands grip onto Bellamy worriedly, terrified that she doesn't know what they're saying. Gustus is lifted up by two other warriors and carried out of the room with Nyko trailing behind them closely as some of the grounders descend onto the Arkers. Angry hands grip at Bellamy and tear him away from Myles, her own hands trying to follow her boyfriend before she too is held away. Figuring it would be better to cease all fighting to show she means no harm, the redhead stops trying to get to her boyfriend and her frantic hazel eyes turn to Lexa.

"No," the red haired teen breathes out shakily, her worried gaze constantly searching out Bellamy. "No, we didn't do this. Heda, please."

"Gustus warned me about you," Lexa grits out, stalking towards the Arkers. "I didn't listen."

"Heda," Myles asserts, her anxious voice slightly firmer. "I haven't lied to you."

"Lexa," Clarke pleads hopelessly, coming up beside Myles as the rest of the Arkers are patted down behind them. "Please."

The commanders heated gaze turns towards the blonde just as hands come and pat down Myles, "Tell me something, Clarke. When you sent the boy you love to his fate… did you not wish that it was me?"

Clarke freezes when hands search her, a look of perplexed shock overtaking her features at the young woman's words. Myles gulps, the commander had implied her attraction to the blonde earlier in the day, but the feeling of betrayal is clearly being amplified by the hesitant desire she harbours. Turning away to lock her eyes on her boyfriends worried gaze, Myles can't help but sag in relief and rush to her boyfriend when the warriors step away from him. Bellamy instantly opens his arms to her and hugs her close when one of the grounders speaks up.

"Heda," the man calls, and the couple both glance towards him and still as he lifts a vial up to sniff it.

"That's not mine," Raven argues, her voice hard and persistent in her denial.

"Gustus patted her down," Myles whispers to Bellamy, locking onto his eyes, "at the gate."

Dark brown eyebrows draw together in confusion as the man walks towards Lexa, "dison don kamp raun em oukou." **[AN: "this was in her coat."]**

"I'm telling you," Raven shouts in frustration and Myles slips back to stand nestled in Bellamy's side. The commander takes the vial the man hands to her, "That's not mine. He put it there when he searched me."

Silence falls over the room once again, barely a whisper being uttered as everyone stands with bated breaths while the commanders hard eyes stare at the mechanic. Lexa's gaze flicks to Myles, and she quirks her red eyebrows imploringly in reply before the young woman turns to Clarke, who shakes her head.

"No Sky Person leaves this room," Lexa's calls loudly, her face twisting up in fury.

Lexa storms out of the dining hall, followed closely by the grounders left in the room when Lincoln steps forward.

"Indra," the dark skinned man calls, but the woman doesn't acknowledge him. Lincoln chases after the warrior, "Indra, hod op." Myles inches out of Bellamy's arms and towards Octavia's boyfriend nervously, sensing this won't go his way when the dark skinned woman only halts on the stairs. "Teik ai chich op kom emo." **[AN: "Indra, Wait. Let me speak for them."]**

"Yu sou laik emo," Indra spits out, slamming the door shut and disappearing up the stairs. **[AN: "you ARE them."]**

Lincoln only stares after the woman with a dejected expression on his face and Myles steps forward hesitantly, afraid of making it worse. Gently placing her hand on his shoulder, the man tips his head towards her in acknowledgment but doesn't turn to look at her.

"I'm so sorry, Lilo," the red haired teen breathes out sadly. "We've taken so much from you and your people. I wish I could give it all back to you."

Lincoln's dark eyes meet hers as he turns, patting his hand on her shoulder, before leaving it to rest there, "If only it was that easy."

Bellamy paces in front of her, his anxious energy only seeming to amplify from Myles' still form. They've scattered about the room, Marcus and Abby talking animatedly in front of the table Lincoln and Octavia calmly sit at. Raven fiddles with her leg brace at the other table, and Clarke stays frozen in place between the two tables. Red eyebrows sit in a frown on her face as she thinks, tapping the black splint material that covers her thumb on her chin in thought.

Food and shattered plates still lay across the floor, but hazel eyes stay stuck on the skinny chalice Bellamy thrust out of her hand. Dull sunlight streams in through small patches in the ceiling, telling the red haired teen that it's not nightfall yet. Bellamy passes in front of her again, temporarily blocking her view of the carnage in the room. She can feel her delicate features twitch against her fingers and splint as she thinks.

It doesn't make sense. Raven couldn't have had the poison on her before they entered the gate, so where did it come from? The mechanic didn't have the alcohol before it was given to Marcus, so how did the poison get there? One by one, Myles has ruled out every Arker here that could or would have access to the alcohol to poison it in Camp Jaha. Obviously, if none of the Arkers in the room had poisoned the alcohol, it was either tampered with _before_ they got their hands on it, or it wasn't poisoned at all to begin with.

The idea that anything that could've resulted in the theatrics started _here_, with the grounders, makes Myles' head hurt. Her left arm jitters against her chin at the stressful mess they can't seem to steer clear from. Hazel eyes leave the cup on the floor for the first time in what feels like an hour, instead choosing to follow Bellamy as he swings his arms in frustration while he paces.

Gustus was the only one besides Finn, Marcus and Bellamy who had any physical contact with Raven that Myles had seen. Finn wouldn't have had access to a poison and wouldn't have been able to slip it onto her person discreetly with his bound hands. Meaning either Raven pinched it off of Finn, who had to have it placed on him _after_ his trial, and in her distraught thrashing had the foresight to hide the vial, or Finn didn't have anything to do with it.

Marcus and Bellamy wouldn't have let Myles touch the cup, let alone almost drink out of it, if they knew anything about it. If Abby, Clarke and Raven had poisoned the alcohol before giving it to Marcus, why hide the vial on Ravens body? Why not use all of the poison, or throw it away? Why not hide it in one of their packs?

The poison couldn't have originated from the Arkers, so how did it get in the al –

A loud crunch and grunt reverberates through the room as Raven punches Clarke in the face. Myles lifts a delicate red eyebrow and pushes off of the wall gently while Abby rushes to her daughter. Stepping forward haltingly, Myles comes to stand beside a no longer pacing Bellamy.

"You and Myles are the only murderers here!" Raven accuses harshly and the words seem to jar the Arkers from their shock.

Myles rushes forward with Octavia to crowd around the teens, when Clarke stills. Her blue gaze is stuck on Raven and her eyes fill with tears as her whole body shudders.

"I tried to help him," Clarke whispers, shaking her head desperately, "he turned himself in."

Myles reaches her hands out to help Octavia steady Clarke, "Finn will be fine. They're not killing him."

"How can you say that?" Raven seethes, shoving Myles hard and causing her to crash into Clarke harshly. "You were the one who signed his death warrant! You know they will kill him anyway, and you let them take him!" The mechanic keeps shoving Myles, and the redhead lets her, knowing she needs to let these emotions out someway. Marcus and Bellamy quickly insert themselves into the crowd, trying to hold Raven away, "you were supposed to save him!"

"I couldn't," the red haired teen answers dully, maintaining eye contact with the distressed brunette. "I did what I could. They won't torture him, he won't die tied to a pole for everyone to see."

Raven shoves Marcus away and picks up a plate of food, throwing it as hard as she can at the redhead. Myles doesn't even flinch, knowing the plate won't hit her and staring sorrowfully at Raven as the pitiful slops of the food smacking against the floor land solidly behind her and the clay plate shatters. Tears continue to stream down Ravens face, and the teen crumples to her knees. Clarke turns away to get as far away from the crowd as she can with Abby on her heels when Ravens heart wrenching sobs cut through the still air. Pity strikes through Myles' heart and she shuffles forward hesitantly, before moving to kneel in front of the crying brunette. Bellamy quickly stops her, tugging her away from Raven to stand by Lincoln.

"She wanted me to save him from dying," Myles' hoarse voice mutters, her hazel eyes still stuck on a distraught Raven. "I did that. I didn't have a choice."

"You did the best thing for Finn," Lincoln reassures as Bellamy engulfs her in his loving embrace.

Myles is sitting on the floor against the wall as a restless Bellamy talks animatedly with Abby and Clarke about leaving. Raven is the one pacing now, the restless girl limping backwards and forwards in a never-ending loop. The redheads hazel eyes are stuck on the chalice on the ground, replaying everything that's happened over and over to try and pinpoint the moment the alcohol was poisoned.

Marcus steps in front of her, obstructing her view of the cup, "You did the right thing for Finn. You know that, don't you?"

"I did something," Myles agrees, meeting his caring eyes. "But every time I've done the 'right thing' for someone, something gets broken."

The councillor heaves a sigh and sits down beside her, "Lexa needs this alliance just as much as we do. She's shown herself to be flexible. She listens to you."

Myles looks at him in disbelief, "she thinks we tried to kill her."

"But we didn't," Marcus reminds her softly. "You figured everything out on the Ark; every person, every lock, every vent, every single little nook and cranny. So let's do that now. Who would want her dead?"

"Too many to count," Lincoln interjects, "forming an alliance with you was a risk. Especially after what Finn did to this village."

"So it had to be someone trying to break the alliance," Octavia summarises, and Myles quirks an eyebrow.

"I can't," Myles whispers out hesitantly after a moment, "I cant figure it out."

"What?" Octavia questions, her dark brown eyebrows twitching in confusion.

"Every time I stop," the red haired teen starts, "every time I try to think, I keep going back there and I can't get out, and then when I'm back here, I'm right where I started again."

"Mount Weather?" Marcus rubs his hand up and down her back soothingly, but wide hazel eyes are locked on the cup on the ground. "That's okay."

"Brolhaken," Lincoln announces, looking at Myles with sympathy.

"Brolhaken?" Octavia repeats, switching her gaze between the two, "What does that mean?"

"Battle sickness," the dark skinned man answers, and Marcus nods to himself, continuing his comforting motions on her back.

"What we call PTSD," the councillor elaborates, and the Blake sisters face morphs with sadness. "What does your gut say?"

"That I'm asleep," Myles breathes out without hesitation, not even needing to think to know the answer, "I hear them, all the time and it never stops. Like I'm still there and this is a dream but I can still hear them. My gut knows, it's like it's on the tip of my tongue, but I can't understand it anymore."

"That's okay," Marcus soothes, nodding in understanding. "I won't let you get lost in Mount Weather, walk me thr – "

Marcus is cut off by the door opening and everyone in the room turns to the entrance, on edge. Bellamy quickly strides towards his sister and Myles as Marcus stands, all of their eyes glued to the door. Nyko and Indra walk in, and another two warriors stand guard in the doorway.

"How's Gustus?" Myles asks instantly, her loud voice bouncing back towards herself.

"Gustus will live," Nyko supplies, his blank eyes locked on hers.

Lincoln visibly deflates, "that's great."

"Teik em we," Indra orders, her tone harder than her expression. **[AN: "Take her away."]**

The warriors surge forward, their sights set on Raven, but Myles doesn't move an inch, only watching with detachment when the Arkers argue with the grounders.

"What are you doing?" Lincoln demands, following the men closely when they reach for Raven.

"She didn't poison anyone!" Bellamy declares leaping forward with Marcus and standing protectively in front of the mechanic.

"I argued for all of you to die," Indra announces, her tone sharp. "But the commander is merciful. She wants only one."

"She's innocent," Lincoln remarks, staring at the woman.

"I don't care," Indra drawls, stepping into the room fully. "They move," the dark skinned woman orders, "they bleed."

The second the warriors hands are on Bellamy, Myles springs to her feet to reach him. Bellamy thrashes under the grounders grip, but he's quickly released when they turn to Raven. Their strong arms pry the mechanic from her spot frozen, and Octavia jumps towards the brunette to try and help.

"Hey," the Blake sister calls, grunting as her hands unsuccessfully try and tug Raven away, "Hey, stop. Let her go."

Bellamy and Myles quickly swarm Octavia, holding her back and away from harm while the two warriors pull Raven through the door. No one else moves, but Indra's dark eyes scan their faces with disinterest.

"The rest of you are free," the dark skinned woman declares, "when she's dead, so is the alliance." Dread pumps through Myles' veins and she falls back to lean on the table behind her, "you should run."

Indra turns on her heel and marches from the room with the rest of the grounders, and Myles leans forward, the heel of her palm and her splint digging into her temples. She's trying to _think_, she's gotten out of worse situations than this, if she can only _think_ she can stop this.

"We are not running," Bellamy's strong voice asserts into the silent room, his familiar tone cutting through the noise from Mount Weather.

"Of course not," Marcus agrees, stepping in front of the doubled over red haired girl. His hands rest on her shoulders, "Aggie, I know it still feels like you're still in Mount Weather, but we need the Ghost. We're running out of time."

Frantic and exhausted hazel eyes look up to meet his concerned expression, "Okay. Okay. Okay, everyone go… go wait upstairs. I need to think, and everyone's suffocating me." Bellamy hesitates, but Myles doesn't look at him, "go, go, just go. I need to think."

"We can do that," the councillor replies after a moment. His hands squeeze her shoulders before his touch is gone completely and Myles leans as far forward as she can again, bringing her hands to rest against the back of her neck. "Let's go, give her some space."

"Aggie," the loving voice of her boyfriend flutters through the fog that never leaves her mind while footsteps echo further away from her.

"I'm okay," the redhead wobbles out, "give me a minute, I'll be up after you."

A kiss is planted on her head, before his boots walk out of the room as well, his disappearing footsteps replaying in her mind. Heaving a couple of deep breaths, Myles wrenches her body back upright and her hazel eyes immediately land on Clarke leaning against the other table across the room. The blonde is silent, not even looking back at the red haired teen, but they're alone. Her gut clenches, forcing her gaze to snap towards the tipped over chalice on the ground.

She's missing something, and she needs to figure it out _now_ or she'll lose another friend, and they'll never be able to save the rest of the delinquents from Mount Weather. Jasper and Monty flitter through her mind and hazel eyes squeeze shut tightly at the thought of what might be happening to them. A garbled mess of wordless grunts escapes her mouth as her mind gets trapped in that mountain again, and Myles lifts her left hand to bash her splint against her head.

"Not there," the redhead mutters to herself, "not real. Not real. Walk through it. Not real." Flinging her eyes open again, her head instantly snaps towards the cup on the floor again with a heavy tug in her gut, her gaze passing over Clarke who's staring at her with pity. "Why? What does it mean?" Ravens short scream echoes down the short staircase and Myles' mind stops moving altogether, all of the pieces fitting together perfectly. "Of course."

"What?" Clarke rushes out, and another short scream floods into the room. "What is it?"

Sprinting from the table to the stairs, her confused blonde haired friend quickly follows her. Taking the stairs two at a time, Myles almost runs into a stunned Abby who stands in the doorway to the dining hall. Bellamy's head snaps to her and his deep brown eyes fill with panic as he tries to match her hasty strides towards Raven.

"Stop," her boyfriends voice begs, "What are you doing? You'll get yourself killed."

Myles' hazel eyes don't turn to acknowledge the Blake brother, instead searching out Nyko and addressing him as she beelines for the cut up mechanic tied to a pole in the middle of the village.

"I need that bottle," the redhead demands strongly, continuing when his blue eyes meet hers, "now." Nyko disappears into the house with the red door that the couple had been in earlier, but the red haired teen doesn't stop her persistent strides until she gets closer to the commander. Grinding to a halt when the warriors behind the commander lower their spears to point at her as Lexa and Indra make a third slash on Ravens body, Myles yells out, "stop!"

The commander turns, her gaze hardening when they land on Myles, "let her pass."

Myles doesn't surge forward alone when the grounders lift their weapons, but all of the Arkers do, with Bellamy's desperate hands trying to pull the redhead to a stop.

"One of your own people tried kill you, Lexa," Myles declares loudly, "not one of ours."

Lexa doesn't shift her stoic expression but Gustus' face twitches as Indra steps towards her, "you should have run."

"I can prove it," the red haired teen proclaims, her voice oozing with confidence.

Nyko slowly steps beside the redhead and holds out the bottle of alcohol Marcus had offered to the commander. Without hesitating, Myles grabs the bottle and pulls off the lid, bringing the bottle to her lips and gulping down two mouthfuls of the pungent liquid. Bellamy's hands tear the bottle away from her, holding it out of her reach and gripping her shoulder tightly.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Bellamy demands, shaking her slightly with a horrified look on his face.

Everyone stills, the crowd of grounders that had gathered when Raven had been tied to the pole falling silent. Lexa's expression relaxes when nothing more happens, but Gustus' falls as Myles lifts her arms up and Bellamy almost falls over in relief.

"Explain," the commanders hard voice grits out quietly, and Bellamy engulfs the red haired teen in a hug.

Hazel eyes never stray from Lexa's brown as one of her arms flies up to hug Bellamy back, "the poison wasn't in the bottle. It was in the cup."

"We never had access to your cup," Clarke excitedly realises, her relief making her fidgety.

Bellamy pulls back, a proud look covering his sharp features when Gustus leans in to whisper in the commanders ear.

Myles smiles slyly, "it was you." Clarke whips her head to face her in shock and she continues, "one hell of a guardsman."

"He tested the cup," Bellamy realises, his expression relaxing as he connects the same dots his girlfriend had. "He searched Raven."

"Gustus would never harm me," Lexa announces, her tone as sure as her eyes are.

"You weren't the target," Myles explains further, tilting her head condescendingly at the man. "The alliance was," flicking her eyes back to the commander, "too much of a _risk_ for him, I guess."

"We didn't do this," Clarke recaps when Lexa only stares blankly at Myles. "And you know it."

Lexa clenches her jaw, and twists her head towards the man standing beside her, "yu don ge finga au, Gostos. Ron ai ridiyo op." **[AN: "you have been accused, Gustus. Speak true."]**

Gustus spares Myles a glance and she quirks her red brows impatiently, "This alliance would cost you your life, Heda." Shocked whispers flutter through the crowd but Lexa only blinks in surprise, her lips twitching. "I could not let that happen."

Lexa whispers quietly, before her commanding voice orders the grounders behind her, "teik em set raun ona tri." **[AN: "put him on the tree."]**

Myles dashes forward as a man steps up to Raven to cut her down, and hooks herself under one of the mechanics arms. Bellamy is on Ravens other side in the blink of an eye while Abby runs to join them. Raven breathes a relieved grunt when her arms fall onto their shoulders and the couple quickly carts her away from the pole. The brunettes tired legs barely lift to walk across the dirt as they rush to sit her down beside the dining hall door that Clarke quickly disappears through.

Gently lowering her to the ground, Myles is already checking the long slash on the teens right arm as Abby checks her bleeding abdomen, when Clarke's footsteps pound back up the stairs with a medkit from one of their packs in her hands. The cut is long, but, thankfully, straight and not too deep. Ravens head rolls against the building to look at Myles when she carefully takes some gauze from the medkit Clarke places on the ground.

Hazel eyes flick up to hers, "it's not deep. Won't need stitches, but you'll have to keep it covered."

"Nice Scooby-Doo work," Raven breathes and hazel irises sparkle with mischief.

"Does that make you Daphne?" Myles quips jokingly, "because I've been growing this hair for 18 years, I call dibs."

The brunette huffs a short, exasperated laugh and a smile spreads across Myles' face. Clarke crouches down, her restless hands twiddle anxiously with nothing to do but watch, when another set of footsteps approach them. Bellamy, Lincoln and Octavia straighten almost defensively, and the action alone makes hazel eyes glance up. Indra towers over them, her skeptical gaze stuck on the medkit.

"You gave one of the yellow boxes to our healers," Indra probes, and the everyone but Bellamy snaps their heads to the redhead in shock.

"Yes," Myles concedes, nodding her head. Indra lifts her chin up higher, and the red haired teen knows she has questions, but is too prideful to ask them. Replacing her good hand with her splint to hold the gauze to the long cut, Myles holds up the medkit for Indra to inspect, "it's a healers kit. We all carry one."

Slowly, Indra's hands take the box and she ruffles through the materials inside. An awkward moment passes, and Myles checks the gauze to see the slash on Ravens arm has stopped bleeding. Indra is still rifling around the contents, but her hands are slower now, as if realising the redhead was speaking honestly. Hesitantly rising to her feet, Myles locks eyes with the dark skinned woman and raises her good hand.

"May I?" Myles asks politely, and Indra squints, tilting the box towards the teen slightly. Taking this as her cue, Myles quickly grabs more gauze, a bottle of brown disinfectant, bandages and an adhesive tape. "Thanks."

Crouching back down, Myles, Abby and Clarke quickly get to work cleaning and dressing Ravens wounds as Indra stands above them. The yellow medkit is lowered to the ground beside the red haired teen, but questions still burn inside of the woman.

"You all carry one?" Indra enquires, looking to all of the Arkers. Everyone nods, short answers in the affirmative being voiced quietly. "Whose did you give to our healers?"

"Her own," Bellamy's gruff voice answers, his loving deep brown eyes watching his girlfriend wrap a bandage around Ravens arm one-handedly.

Indra shifts on her feet, but Myles doesn't look up at the warrior when she continues, "why?"

"We all carry one," the red haired teen shrugs, "I'll bring back more so every house can have one."

"That's not a reason why," Indra's hard voice challenges, the warrior is clearly used to getting a straight answer and isn't happy being pulled around.

Hazel eyes look up once Myles has secured the bandage, shrugging lazily with their eyes lock, "because I could. Let me know when your healers box runs out of something, I'll bring more back."

Indra lifts her head and turns away, seeming content with the teens answer. Myles turns to help the mother-daughter duo with whatever wounds are left when her gaze passes a bloody Gustus tied to a pole. Grounders slash him wherever they can reach, taking turns in the ritualistic execution. The redheads sudden halt must get the attention of the other Arkers, because they follow her eyes. After passing the supplies in her lap to Clarke, Myles stands and takes tentative steps towards the brutal assault.

"Aggie," Bellamy breathes, gripping her arm and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "You alright?"

"I did that," the redhead breathes, leaning into her boyfriends loving embrace.

"No," the Blake brother refutes softly, pressing his lips against her hair. "He did it to himself."

Hours pass, the rest of the Arkers eventually coming to stand beside the couple as Gustus starts coughing up blood from the injuries his body has received. Daylight starts to taper out even further, the dull afternoon sun slowly producing dimming sunlight. It's not dark yet when Sindri appears, taking his turn with the knife and giving Gustus a deep slash across his chest. Gustus shudders against the pole, stuttered breaths falling from his lips before he falls limply against his restraints when the blade leaves his skin.

Another grounder quickly steps forward to deliver yet another deep wound to the man, and Myles can't help the jitter that runs through her left arm or the worried look she shoots at Raven. The mechanic watches the scene with a torn look in her eyes, her whole face pale as she pulls the blanket around herself a little bit tighter. Tears glisten in her eyes under the late afternoon sun, the mechanics breaths appearing short and slow.

"This would have been Finn," Raven whispers hoarsely, before turning her apologetic eyes to meet hazel.

Gustus can barely stand on his feet, relying heavily on his restraints to keep him upright after another cut. Lexa stalks forward, coming to a stop directly in front of the dying man and staring at him blankly. Clenching her jaw in pity, Myles realises that the two must have had quite a strong bond for the young woman to trust the man so strongly with her life. Gustus' blood coated lips part as he whispers a few short words that Myles can't hear, but it makes Lexa take a sharp breath in shakily.

Pulling her sword out, the commanders stance is skilful and experienced when she holds the weapon at the man. Gustus lowers his head, and Myles holds her breath, sinking further into Bellamy's arms.

"Yu gonplei ste odon," Lexa speaks strongly, her words reaching the Arkers clearly. **[AN: "your fight is over."]**

Lexa tilts the sword, before slowly piercing the sharp blade through Gustus' chest. A loud groan erupts from the mans throat, spluttered breaths suddenly stopping as his head falls forward completely, his body hanging limply against his restraints. The commander quickly pulls her blade back once it is pushed through the man as far as it will go. Silence overtakes everyone when Lexa only stops, her sword clutched firmly in her hand but hanging by her side. Brown eyes stare at the ground for a moment, before flying up to look at Clarke.

Night falls quickly, Bellamy is sitting out by a crackling fire-pit with Octavia and Lincoln, within Myles' sight from her spot in Ravens tent with the brunette. The interference that was jamming the radio signals has stopped, allowing Jasper's call for help to be heard clearly over the Ark Station radio once the device is turned on.

"_Forty-seven of us are trapped inside Mount Weather_," Jasper's voice is heard clearly and both teens look at each other in shock before bolting from the tent.

"Guys!" Raven shouts as Myles calls "all ears!"

"_They've taken Harper_," one of the red haired teens best friends continues and the Arkers all crowd around the teens with the radio.

"Talk to him," Clarke frets urgently but Myles shakes her head sadly, "say something."

"_We don't know how much time we have left_."

"We can't," Myles breathes, her frantic hazel eyes wide, "it's repeating on a loop."

"_Please hurry. This is Jasper Jordan_."

"They're alive," Octavia gushes, but Myles can't allow herself to feel too happy just yet, her hazel eyes staring at her boyfriend.

"_We need help_."

"We need to do this," the redhead whispers regretfully, and his deep brown eyes lock on hers. "I haven't got another plan. If they wouldn't recognise me, I'd do it."

"We've got the alliance," Bellamy agrees over Jasper's staticky voice talking about Harper, "now's the time to use it."

"_She may already be dead_."

"You said you have a plan," Clarke repeats slowly, her blue eyes stuck on Myles, "what is it?"

"_Please hurry_."

Hazel eyes scan the faces around her, "we need an inside man. To lower their defences, turn off the acid fog so an army can approach." Stopping her gaze on Bellamy as Jaspers voice continues to crackle through the same message, "but you and I need to talk this through."

"You hate that plan," the Blake brother reminds, his dark eyebrows twitching curiously.

"Very much," Myles agrees, swallowing the lump in her throat. "One of the things we need to talk about."

Deep brown eyes flicker with something Myles can't quite put her finger on when Lincoln pipes up, "I can get you through the tunnels."

"You can't go back there," Octavia refuses, when Myles steps forward to pull Bellamy away. "Not yet."

"I can go, too," Myles offers, turning back on her way to the tent she was supposed to share with Bellamy tonight. "I know the way."

"Thank you," Lincoln replies, and Myles tugs Bellamy into their tent.

Shutting the flap behind herself, Myles immediately goes for her pack and pulls out the maps she and Clarke drew of Mount Weather. Bellamy's hands reach out to stop the girls anxious fiddling with the two pieces of paper, gently taking them from her hands and placing them on top of her open pack. His hands frame her face, her worried hazel locking on adoring deep brown.

"I'll be fine," Bellamy promises, and Myles shakes her head in his hands.

This is it. Once their people in Mount Weather are saved, there won't be anything left to stay for. Bellamy will be able to find someone who knows where they are and what's real, and he'll be happy. Her friends will be safe, and the unjammed signal can help reunite them with their families. Reunite the stations, and bring all of the Arkers 'home'. They'll bring Myles' father 'home'.

"If there was any other way," Myles' voice breaks, flashes of Doctor Tsing with her hands on the man in front of her breaking her down. "I – "

"I know," the Blake brother assures softly, rubbing his thumbs across her cheeks.

Lifting her good hand up to stroke his sharp features, Myles hooks her splint behind his neck, "you find a radio to talk to us with. I'll show you what to look for. You find a uniform, and blend in. Nothing too risky. Find JJ and Monnie, they'll get you to wherever they turned off the jammer, you turn off the acid fog and get the fuck out of there."

"Find a radio and a uniform," Bellamy recites with a sad smile. "Turn off the fog. I got it."

Blinking her wet hazel eyes and breathing out a stuttering breath, Myles leans up on her toes to crash her lips to Bellamy's. The Blake brother easily reciprocates, the sweet kiss quickly turning into something more desperate, the passionate movements of their mouths moving together making a warm pit form deep in her stomach. Pushing on Bellamy's shoulders, the man obediently lowers to sit on the bedroll and Myles straddles his lap, never once disconnecting their zealous mouths.

It's not until the redhead leans into Bellamy to try and get him to lie down that the Blake brother halts their actions. Grunting quietly, Bellamy pulls away, but keeps their foreheads pressed together and huffs breathlessly.

"What are you doing?" Bellamy asks, his worried deep brown eyes looking into longing hazel.

"Loving you," Myles answers, the desperate need to have a proper goodbye in case they never get the chance again eating away at her heart.

"I'll be fine," the Blake brother repeats, holding her head lovingly. "This isn't a goodbye, I'm coming back."

Myles takes a shaky breath, "then love me like you're coming back."

"You're still hurt," Bellamy frets, his dark brown eyebrows sitting in a worried frown on his forehead. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," the red haired teen promises, raking her good hand through his soft curls. "You won't."

Deep brown eyes cloud over with desire, staring up at the teen straddling his lap lovingly. Slowly reaching up, the Blake brother kisses her again, but much slower, the deep kiss making the girl in his arms melt into him. His gentle hands slide down tantalisingly slowly until they reach her thighs. Lifting her up, Myles can't help the light giggle that bursts from her lips or the way she arches up into the man as he lays her on her back.


	11. Chapter 10 - Survival Of The Fittest

Bouncing her leg anxiously, Myles' hazel eyes are stuck on the two joined tables in Tondc's dining hall. The table is covered with scrap pieces of metal and wood, making a detailed three-dimensional map of the land around Mount Weather based off of the drawings the two Arkers had made. Clarke stands beside her and Major Byrne across from them, they're the only three Arkers still in the village, and the table is surrounded by a dozen high profile warriors from the commanders clan. Lexa stands with the rest of them, her face hard and stoic as Clarke argues back and forth with the warriors about a plan of attack.

The blonde had come to find her while she and Raven were showing Bellamy what to look for to communicate with them from within Mount Weather the night before. Clarke had gone to the commander to sort out a game plan, but the young woman had demanded Myles be present for the discussion, leaving Bellamy and Lincoln to traverse the reaper tunnels alone. Everyone else had gone back to Camp Jaha, including a portion of the grounders army lead by Indra, to train and prepare for the battle.

Myles hasn't participated much in this debate, not seeing the point in it. If Bellamy completes his part in her plan, then it'll be a straight shot, and the Arkers paired with the grounders army will be a force to be reckoned with. The tricky part will be keeping the 47 Arkers and the hundreds of grounders held hostage inside alive, which will be depend heavily on _time_. Clarke is vocalising a very similar method as Myles is thinking, but Lexa and her warriors are very straight forward thinkers. To them, it's cut and dry, any causalities will be nothing in the grand scheme of things once Mount Weather is defeated, and if they act now, they can get the majority of the army close enough before the fog reaches them.

"This argument is a waste of time," a warrior standing at the table named Quint bellows aggressively. "It is simple. If they can't breathe our air, why not just open the door and be done with it? Let them burn!"

Myles turns her head to look fleetingly around her when a chorus of 'burn', and 'burn them' flows from the dozen grounders in the room. Blonde hair shakes in the corner of her eyes, and Myles huffs dramatically, tipping her head back in exasperation.

Clarke is clearly not through with this argument, "no, because they have a containment system."

"Multiple airlocks," Myles agrees tiredly, reciting the words she's heard several times since the two teens had left Mount Weather. Lexa flicks her eyes from the table to her hazel, the black dust no longer across her face, "like we had on the Ark. It filters the air, keeping it clean and not letting anything else slip through. Our inside man can shut that down."

"If," Quint emphasises with his arms crossed, his dark eyes glaring at Myles and his angry expression accentuates the large, thick white scar under his left eye. "He gets inside."

"What if we shut it down from the outside?" Lexa asks, buying into the Arkers idea.

Clarke's face twitches, as she catches onto Lexa's train of thought, "the dam gives them power." Myles turns to lock her eyes on Clarke's blue, and the blonde continues haltingly, "we could take that away."

"It would take an inexpedient amount of power," Myles explains, "the fastest way would be to use explosives, or to damage the walls, but that would cause flash flooding. We could tunnel around it, make a small opening in one of the walls to stop the tsunami and let the water drain out away from their turbines and into the soil but that would take months, years. We'd need to have access to the turbines to cut off the power."

"So," the blonde Arker sighs in defeat, "if there's no way to take the dam down direc – "

Red eyebrows stay resting high on her forehead, but her silence as Clarke summarises her words is all Quint needs to fuel his anger even more. Cutting off Clarke by shouting wordlessly and smashing his fists on the table, the mans piercing blue eyes glare at the two girls before flying to the commander.

"All they offer," Quint spits out in disdain, leaning onto his hands on the table. "Is no."

Lexa's eyes are hard, her tone cold as ice as she warns the man, "Quint."

Their eyes stay locked together during an awkward beat of silence before the man straightens, his blue eyes wide.

"Apologies, commander," Quint says calmly, his voice level as he tries to relay his frustration. "But the biggest army we've ever had waits for us to give it a mission."

"I'm sorry," the red haired Arker offers sincerely, "we're trying to find a way that keeps as many people as possible alive."

"The longer that takes," the blue eyed man states, his gaze now locked on the redhead. "The more of our people die inside that mountain."

"It's the same for all of us," Clarke tries to reason and the mans offended expression stirs something inside of Myles.

Reaching her hand up to rub her aching temple, Myles screws up her eyebrows, "no, it's not. Do you realise how long they've been being taken and killed by the mountain men?"

"We've lost thousands," Quint reminds her in a quiet, disbelieving tone.

"Hundreds of thousands probably," Myles adds, pinching her nose in frustration. "200 years, Clarke. We've only got forty-seven in there, and they have hope of getting out of this. Two-hundred years of hundreds of thousands of innocent people without hope."

Opening her hazel eyes again, her gaze instantly finds Clarke who has the decency to look ashamed. Something that Myles said, or the way she said it, must've gotten Quint upset because his shaky voice speaks up again.

"She understands," the blue eyed man acknowledges gruffly, "but she refuses our ideas because she says she has a plan." Hazel eyes swivel to him, passing an increasingly uncomfortable looking Major Byrne, "I say, waiting for one man to get inside… is not a very good one."

One of the grounders standing beside Major Byrne leans forward, his strong voice speaking loudly in the room, "I agree with Quint. We have an army, let's use it."

"We will," Clarke instantly defends, and Myles can't help hiding her face in her hand.

"To avoid unnecessary casualties," the redhead jumps to elaborate before her blonde haired friend can make anymore enemies. "Bellamy is our best bet. After he lowers their defences and turns off the acid fog, we can ensure all of the army can actually reach Mount Weather." Shaking her head, her long red ponytail sways heavily as the men around her start to relax, "if we try and rush it now, they'll see us coming. That puts the hostages inside the mountain at risk."

"I don't care how many men you have," Clarke rushes out and the grounders tense up again, her tone slightly higher while she argues her point. "If you can't get to your enemy, you can't win."

"You," Quint grits angrily, staring pointedly at Clarke, "are the enemy."

"I'm sorry," the blonde irks obnoxiously, turning to squint condescendingly at the man. "Have I done something to offend you?"

"Clarke," Myles breathes out tiredly, rubbing her throbbing temple and watching the scene wearily.

The blonde huffs sarcastically and Quint steps slowly around the table. Myles and Major Byrne both bristle at the threatening movement, and the redhead slips quickly in front of Clarke as the blonde haired guardswoman shifts on her feet, prepared for a fight.

"Yes," the blue eyed man drawls out, stopping when he stands in front of Myles. Quints hard gaze is stuck on the teen behind her, "you burned my brother alive in a ring of fire."

All the breath leaves Myles at once as her eyes fall shut, feeling as if the end of that battle is brought up in every interaction with a grounder. Clarke tries to step around Myles, but the red haired teen flings her arms behind her to keep the blonde in place.

"He shouldn't have attacked my ship," Clarke replies lowly, her tone dark and hazel eyes roll impatiently.

Quint huffs an amused breath, "you're very brave under the commanders protection, aren't you?"

"You know," Myles starts, her red eyebrows dancing around her face. "I'm trying real hard to like you and stick up for your friends, but if you threaten _my_ friend again, I'll smash your face in and burn your eyes out with one of those candles."

"Noumou," Lexa orders when Quint moves forward again and goes to say something else. **[AN: "Enough."]**

The blue eyed man freezes, a look of embarrassment fleetingly crossing his face before his bitter expression returns, "Ai nou na hon hukop… in kom disha kru." **[AN: "I can't be in an alliance… with these people."]**

Once Quint is finished spitting the words out as if they tasted sour in his mouth, the man turns and stalks back around the table. His blue gaze stays locked on the commanders, and her brown eyes follows his retreating form. Sighing, Myles spins to look at Clarke tiredly, the blondes downtrodden face looks almost like she's shocked this isn't moving smoothly.

"Clarke," Myles starts, her tone light while she watches the teen cautiously. "You are my sister in all but blood. I want you to know what I'm gonna say next is out of love and great concern for your wellbeing."

"What?" Clarke questions slowly, matching the redheads hesitant expression.

Lifting her good hand to rest on her shoulder, "you sound a bit insensitive."

"Insensitive?" The blonde repeats in shock, her harsh tone twinging accusingly and she stares at Myles incredulously, "How is helping them insensitive?"

"You know," the red haired teen slowly vocalises, her eyebrows flying up, "How shitty it feels to have forty-seven of our friends in that mountain?" At Clarke's querying expression of acknowledgement, Myles continues, "I want you to imagine it was 1,047." Blue eyes tear away as her thoughtful gaze starts to fade in horror, "that doesn't even begin to scrape the surface of how they feel."

"But I'm only trying to help!" Clarke exclaims defensively, and Myles takes a deep breath.

The redheads eyes meet Lexa's in exasperation before she closes them, removing her good hand from Clarke's shoulder and pinching the bridge of her nose. Paper rustles in the now silent room as the commander picks up the paper map of Mount Weather the girls had spent the night creating with her.

"Quint's right," Lexa states calmly and hazel eyes snap open as Clarke tenses. The commanders eyes hold Clarke's before flicking to Myles'. "Waiting for Bellamy is not a plan. It's a prayer," the thought that sending Bellamy in was a dangerous mistake looms over Myles' head, making her chest ache painfully. "And one that's not likely to be answered."

"Excuse me," the red haired teen rushes out, feeling nauseous and claustrophobic. "I… need some air."

As soon as the words are out of the redheads mouth, Myles turns and strides to the door, taking the short staircase two steps at a time. The room is silent, par from two footsteps echoing after her quiet boots, following her out. It's bright outside, the dull blue sky looks smoggy under the late morning sun and makes the greenery surrounding the village seem more vibrant than normal. Leaving the dining hall doesn't make the weight hanging over her lessen as the village only makes her feel more trapped, and her hasty pace heads straight for the gate to leave.

Stepping through the threshold to walk out in the open instantly relieves her body of tension, as if there were a dome keeping the air in the village thick and bitter. Jogging steps pound against the hard ground behind her, trying to catch up with her unceasing movements. Clarke slows her run to match Myles' speed, and the teens blonde hair flicks in the corners of her eyes.

"Thank you," Clarke says eventually, once the lively rustling sounds of the grounders living their lives is out of earshot. "For trying to make me sound less insensitive. And for sticking up for me."

"No need to thank me," Myles replies awkwardly, not used to being thanked for the stupid shit she gets herself caught up in. "I'm just disappointed no one else really tried to pick a fight. It was too boring in there."

"You're horrible," the blonde huffs in amusement. When the pinched expression on Myles' face doesn't shift, Clarke continues, "Bellamy will do it."

"If it was me," the red haired teen looks up at the suns position in the sky, "it would've been done already. Bell is handsome, but he's not used to these kinds of… heists."

"They had to get past the reapers," Clarke reminds her, "I'm sure that would've taken a while." Myles heaves a heavy sigh, and the blonde looks at her, "he'll be fine. We just need to give him time."

"That's the one thing," the redhead drawls out, meeting her friends blue gaze, "that we don't have."

Birds chirp happily above them, filling the tense silence that falls over them with lighthearted songs. They're a decent walk away from Tondc now, and they slow their pace to an easy walk as they contemplate their options, an uncomfortable itch scratching away at the back of Myles' head. When she turns around, Myles can no longer get a glimpse of the village, the settlement not within her sight or her hearing range anymore. Myles' itch remains but her heavy heart lightens the farther away they walk, feeling like they've left the burden placed upon the two teens' shoulders behind in the village.

Rustling behind her makes her steps falter as she whips her head around, and Clarke slows at the redheads paranoid stance. It was a fleeting and hefty sound, the empty forest behind her adding to her suspicions that something isn't right. No animal would make a short burst of sound and then immediately hide. Neither of them had picked up their weapons when they left, the small pistol tucked into her sock is the only weapon the two have access to and Myles can't help feeling very exposed. Coming to a complete stop, red eyebrows furrow as her hazel eyes scrutinise the woods behind them for any signs of whoever is following them.

"What?" Clarke questions worriedly, and Myles can't help the flinch that jolts her or how her left arm jitters anxiously at the loud question.

Keeping her eyes scanning the tree trunks and the branches around them for a moment more, making sure to say equally as loud, "nothing, I don't think." Turning around, Myles shoots her good hand out to grasp Clarke's arm and pull her to continue walking, the same burning itch chipping away at the back of her head. Speaking in a low tone so she goes unheard by anyone but her blonde haired friend, "we're being followed."

Myles finally recognises the scratching sensation, it's the feeling of being watched, and not the worry she's been feeling for Bellamy Blake. Clarke tenses beside her, flicking her blue eyes to look at the redhead before looking over her shoulder. The blonde faces back in front of them when Myles squeezes her arm in warning, their steps speeding up slightly when they start to make a subtle turn to loop back to Tondc.

As they're trying to change course, another loud rustling thunders through the quiet woods not far to their left. Both girls stop to whip their heads towards the sound this time, and Myles' heart stutters when she sees Quint standing menacingly almost 100 feet away from them. The warrior is standing still, but even through the trees the redhead can make out the bow gripped in his hand and the murderous loathing in his eyes. Clenching her jaw and tugging on Clarke's tense arm, Myles tries to ignore the pounding of her heart and pulls the blonde to stand on her other side.

They both walk haltingly with Quint now closer to Myles than Clarke, and the warrior matches their steps in the corner of their eyes, displaying the quiver slung over his shoulder that's packed with arrows. Swallowing, the red haired teen keeps Clarke walking forward, figuring that if push comes to shove, it'll be easier to break into a fast run if they're already moving.

"Get ready to run," Myles mutters lowly under her breath, trying to talk discreetly through almost closed lips. "Don't look back when you do."

The words makes Clarke snap her head to look at Myles in horror, and it eggs Quint on.

"Not so brave now," the warrior calls bitterly, never once taking his eyes off of the teens. Myles begins walking faster, pulling Clarke to match her pace, "are you, sky girls?"

Hazel eyes flick over to Quint, watching him as the two girls walk past a particularly thick tree. Both of their steps falter and slow when they pass the tree, seeing that in the two seconds that Quint was blocked from sight, he'd managed to disappear again. Myles' eyes land on him crouched behind a bush just as he lets an arrow fly, and the redhead wastes no time in shoving Clarke roughly.

"Run," the red haired teen orders urgently, hearing the arrow sink into the tree trunk beside where they'd stopped.

Myles stays a second behind Clarke, hearing two more arrows whizz near them as they sprint away from the man. Fear strikes through the redheads heart when her hazel eyes scan the land in front of Clarke, not recognising it when they quickly barrel past it. Her arms burn as they swing harshly beside her, trying to keep up with the momentum her pounding legs thump over the Earth with. Heavy footfalls echo behind them, and blonde hair flies when the girl in front of her tries to turn around.

"Go!" Myles shouts, shoving Clarke forward when trying to turn around makes the blonde haired teen slow. "Go, go!" Trees fly past them quickly, fanning their vision as the world slurs together and Myles knows they need to weave to lose him, huffing out, "right, go right."

Clarke listens to her panting friend, swerving right and continuing to run through the forest. Seconds drag into minutes, and the sound of Quint following them falls back slightly, sounding farther away before disappearing entirely. Myles' spinning mind doesn't relish in the fact, knowing that he has a bow and a large supply of arrows with him. Her muscles sear under her tight skin, the cold winter air biting her skin as she races through it.

She winds up dashing beside Clarke rather than behind her, "come on!" Myles wrenches the blonde forward again to push her to keep up her pace, but the girl is beginning to tire, "keep going!"

"I can't," Clarke wheezes, coming to a complete stop to lean over on her knees and catch her breath.

Skidding to a stop, Myles flails her arms as she turns around, her boots slide across the dirt for a short moment before sending the redhead crashing onto her knees. Her legs don't stop their frantic moving, though, quickly lifting her up and sending her smashing into the blonde. The running has made the never ending ache that's been present in her bones since they were drilled into amplify tenfold, making her movements sloppy and stiff, but she refuses to stop.

"Come on," Myles begs breathlessly, gripping Clarke and yanking her to continue forward. "We have to keep going!"

A rustling sound to their left makes Clarke freeze again, and Myles wastes no time in letting go of her arm to pull the small pistol from where it sits wedged into her sock and shoe. Flinging the weapon up and aiming it in the direction the sound came from, Quint is nowhere to be seen. Not seeing the warrior makes her blood run cold; if she can't see him, he has the upper hand.

"Where did you get that?" Clarke breathes out, the relieved lilt in her voice making her seem a lot more relaxed than her rapid breaths would indicate.

The rustling continues, and Myles slinks forward slowly out of an anxious desire to gain equal ground with the armed warrior. Clarke sticks close behind her, standing so close that the red haired teen can feel her hot breaths on her neck. A bittersweet feeling blooms inside of her, making her feet hurry towards the sounds when a disheveled Major Byrne comes into sight and heads towards them with her body turned to look behind her. Seeing the guardswoman feels sweet, knowing that Tondc must be closer than she realises, but the bitter taste that comes from the usually firm and strong woman's stance being sluggish and distressed makes her keep her gun up.

"Byrne," Clarke huffs in relief, relaxing behind Myles and moving to overtake her on their way to the guardswoman. "Thank god. Quint – "

Clarke cuts off in horror and Myles' steps stutter when Major Byrne turns around to face them. The woman's face is pale and the blonde hair that's escaped her signature bun frames her features. Byrne's pale and disheveled appearance isn't what stops the teens, however, but the sight of her right arm being missing. Her black guards uniform is in tatters and blood pours thickly from the woman's shoulder, the dark red muscles and flesh left behind is torn to shreds and dangling in short threads, sharp bone peeking out of the bloody mess.

"Save… yourselves," Major Byrne's hoarse voice pleads roughly, the woman gasping between the words.

The guardswoman's exhausted stumbling comes to an end as soon as the last syllable falls from her lips, and Major Byrne goes crashing to the ground heavily. Clarke stops her shocked steps towards her when the woman rolls to a stop, her head flinging lifelessly with her momentum and her unseeing blue eyes staring blankly into the distance. Myles doesn't stop though, an incessant pull in her chest begging her to help the blonde haired woman.

It's Clarke's turn to grip Myles' arm and tug her away, "run, Aggie!" Hazel eyes are still plastered on the pale woman's form, but the redhead lets Clarke pull her, "Run!"

Myles turns at the desperate urgency in Clarke's voice, and forces her aching body to start running again. The two sprint away from Major Byrne, heading in the opposite direction of where the woman had come from. Her lungs feel as if they're boiling inside of her and her thumping heart twinges with remorse for leaving the guardswoman behind. Fighting the urge to look behind them or throw up, Myles hopes that the warriors in Camp Jaha don't turn on the Arkers there as well.

The world blurs together again as they dart around the trees and over the uneven terrain blindly. Quint hasn't resurfaced, but he's nearby and armed with a long range weapon, and that's enough to keep the two girls trampling over the Earth eagerly. He hasn't hit either of them yet, and Myles can only hope that his aim is even worse with moving targets. It's hard to breathe through the burning pain all over her body and the ever present ache clouding her head, but the two girls refuse to slow down, even as the chase starts to feel as if it's dragged on for hours.

Just as Myles is about to flick her hazel eyes around them and give Clarke another direction to run in, a large and heavy force collides with her, knocking out the little air in her lungs and sending the pistol flying from her hand. Landing roughly on the hard ground, Myles' breathless grunt blends with Quints as he sits his weight on her chest and squeezes his hands around her throat. Frantic legs kick and her good hand clambers across the soil beneath her to find the gun as her airway is held shut.

"Aggie!" Clarke shrieks, but the redhead is too distracted with the angry man strangling her to look at what the blonde is doing.

The colours in the world flash vibrantly for a short moment as fear pumps through her veins at the familiar feeling of being suffocated, and her panic only intensifies when her good hand can't find her gun. Lifting her broken left hand up, Myles slams her hard splint on Quints bald head several times, causing white hot pain to soar through her arm. Quints hard gaze leaves her wide hazel eyes when Clarke approaches with a short, thick branch, and his grip abandons her throat completely to pull the blonde closer and punch her in the face when she tries to strike him with the wood.

Wet gasps take in greedy gulps of air while Myles kicks her legs desperately to try to dislodge the heavy man and her eyes quickly scan the ground for her gun. The thick brick of dread fills her gut when she sees it just out of reach, but Myles doesn't have long to dwell on it when a hand clamps on her throat again. Her head crashes into the soil harshly, making the holes in the back of her head be set ablaze with fiery agony as her vision flashes in pain. A sharp slicing sound is heard when Quint pulls a dagger from his armour and lifts it high above Clarke's fallen form beside Myles.

"For my brother," Quint declares, and the red haired teens heart stops but her violent thrashing intensifies.

The hand against her throat presses down harder when she struggles and just as the blade is coming down towards Clarke, a woman's grunt sounds to her left. Myles stills in shock for a second when her eyes see another dagger imbed itself into Quints risen arm, halting his attack on Clarke. Quint shouts wordlessly and drops his dagger onto the dirt, his grip loosening on her throat and allowing her to breathe properly again. Using his distraction to her advantage, Myles bucks her hips up and hooks her leg over his arm to plant her boot on his face and shove him off of her.

Clarke's hands grab at Myles as she clambers across the dirt when Quint flies back, her panicked breathing matching Myles' breathless gasps. Tearing away from Clarke's hands to grab her gun off of the ground, Lexa and Arleo, another one of her warriors, rush up to them. Arleo approaches Quint with his machete out and pointed at the fallen man threateningly, Lexa staling up behind him angrily. Myles tiredly rolls up onto her feet and stumbles backwards into Clarke with her pistol pointed at Quint.

"Thank you," Myles gasps loudly, leaning her aching body against her blonde haired friend.

Lexa stomps up to Quint and yanks her knife from his wrist, looking down at the man with a disdainful expression. Feeling confident that the two grounders will handle Quint, Myles drops her arm to hold the gun limply by her side.

"Jomp emo op en yu jomp ai op," the commander grits out angrily, and Quint looks up at the young woman in shock. **[AN: "Attack them and you attack me."]**

"Thank you," Clarke echoes Myles' words from earlier, her whole body sagging in relief against Myles'.

The commander turn her head to look at them slowly, "where's your guard?"

"Dead," the red haired teen huffs out regretfully, her heart twinging with remorse for the poor woman.

"He killed her," Clarke confirms when Lexa's expression falls in shock, and the commanders face twitches.

Quint snaps his head to the two girls as he pants on the ground, "em ste spich." Lexa's brown eyes flick down to the man scornfully, and he quickly rises to his feet. "Ai gonplei kamp raun emo en nou moun." **[AN: "she lies. My fight is only with them."]**

The commander's hard expression doesn't shift, staring at him blankly, "yu gonplei ste odon." **[AN: "your fight is over."]** Lexa turns her head to look at the two girls still catching their breaths, "the kill is yours, Clarke and Myles."

"What's a little more blood, right?" Myles asks rhetorically, leaning away from Clarke to stand on her own and point her gun at Quint as he turns to them with wide, fearful blue eyes. Her hazel gaze is strong and unwavering, "I warned you what would happen if you threatened my friend."

Clicking the safety off of the pistol, the group of five are all distracted by an animal roaring loudly nearby. The ground rumbles beneath her boots at the loud snarl, and her hand freezes on the trigger as her hazel eyes snap towards the sound. Thunderous steps thump loudly across the Earth, headed straight for them.

"What is that?" Clarke whispers fearfully, her shaking hands gripping onto Myles' throbbing bad arm.

Lexa doesn't flinch away from looking terrified in the direction of the sounds, "pauna." Quickly, the commander reaches for her sword strapped to her back and yanks it out, before slashing Quints leg with it. The man falls to his knees with a startled scream, and Lexa and Arleo spin to the two frozen Arkers. "Run!"

The sight of the absolutely terrified expressions on the grounders faces makes the hesitant grumble bubbling up in Myles' throat die on her tongue. Instantly spinning around to do as she's told, Myles grips her pistol tightly, and sprints with the other three in the opposite direction of the large animal. Her damaged body screams in agony at the jolting motions, but the redhead doesn't stop when the roaring sounds again and gets closer to them. Trees fall and tremble behind them, before Quints loud screaming echoes loudly in the forest once again.

His anguished screeching only fuels Myles' panicked limbs even more, pushing the red haired teen to run faster as her body vibrates with hot adrenaline. Arleo leads them through trees and down a small decline before weaving around to getting back on level ground. Lexa and Clarke follow diligently behind him, and Myles lags at the back of the three of them. Their frantic steps don't cease even when Quint stops screaming, and the large beast roars again, thundering across the Earth.

"We need to hide," Lexa calls out, and Myles scans her hazel eyes around the blend of colours that whizz past them.

"This way," Clarke answers, digging in her heels and swerving to the right. Myles almost rams into the back of her in her haste, but quickly catches herself and follows her blonde haired friend. "I found something."

A rusted, circular metal grate peeks out from under bright green moss, the hole hiding a large pipe inside of a stone wall. Tucking her pistol into her waistband, the Arkers pale hands pull at the gritty metal as the two grounders appear behind them. The metal grate is almost as tall as they are, and is extremely heavy, requiring all of the two teens strength to shift it. After only managing to pull it not even a centimetre away from the stone, Myles shifts gears to roll the circular metal out of the way.

Clarke quickly slips inside with Lexa right behind her, and hazel eyes fly to Arleo when he doesn't immediately follow. The man stares into the distance where the sounds of the beast echo through the woods, and the redhead reaches out to grasp his sleeve and yank him to the hole. Ducking in after him, her two freed fingers on her bad hand join her right hand to roll the gritty, heavy metal grate back to cover the pipe. The grate is only resting against the stone, but it's good enough for Myles as she hears her own heaving breathing mingling with the echoing retreating steps of the other three inside of the pipe.

Turning and awkwardly following their crouched forms to the grate at the other end of the pipe, Myles can't help skimming her fingers against the cool, smooth stone to support herself. The other grate falls away with a dull and muffled thud, and the groups echoing sounds leave the pipe altogether as the midday sun streams in. Myles almost walks into Arleo when she steps out of the pipe and stands up straight, her wide eyes following his quick gaze when it shoots around their surroundings.

Unnatural rock structures sit scattered around them, bones and decaying bodies of humans and various animals litter the enclosed world. The stench is sickening, the putrid smell of _death_ hanging thickly in the air with hundreds of flying and buzzing bugs zooming around the dead carcasses. Long intestines are pulled from the half devoured body of a large bear on the ground to Myles' right, carelessly strewn about the soggy ground with the animals other internal organs.

"What is this place?" Clarke breathes out, her blonde hair whipping around in the corner of hazel eyes.

"It's the pauna's feeding ground," Myles answers immediately, looking at the lush greenery that's growing all over the stone walls boxing them in. Two signs on the white stone wall above the unnatural rock structures catch her eyes. The sign on top is a picture of a hand feeding an animal with a red circle and a line through it, the sign directly underneath of it says, 'No Feeding The Animals!' Realisation dawns on her, pictures from some of the books she read on the Ark flashing through her mind. "This was a zoo. It's an animal enclosure."

Lexa looks at her with a confused expression, before a loud roaring sounds around them. All four of them snap their heads up to look at the top of the stone walls boxing them in and Clarke grabs Myles' arm.

"Let's go," the blonde urges, starting to climb the rock structure littered with dead bodies beside them.

Myles and the grounders swiftly follow her up, the redhead having to use only one hand to support her as she goes. Clarke falters when she reaches the last step, and when Myles finally clambers on top of the stone, she can see why. A large moose lays dead directly in front of them, it's legs and lower half torn to shreds. Bones and innards poke out and lay scattered across the flat surface, various bugs flying around their faces when they step up to walk around the dead animal.

Just when Arleo is about to join the three girls on the top of the rock structure, a loud roar rings out, sounding as if it's right on top of them and they all freeze. Both of the grounders pull out their long blades and Myles yanks her pistol from her waistband when the snarl drawls out, leaving Clarke weaponless. Their rapid breaths pant for a moment while they look around anxiously for the beast.

The trees outside of the left wall start to shift and fall down, before a large gorilla jumps over the stone wall and roars loudly. Lexa and the Arkers take startled steps backwards, but Arleo can't do anything except cower in fear as the gorilla lands solidly beside him. The young man's screams when the beast starts instantly tearing him to shreds will echo in Myles' mind forever, but his pained screeches are cut off quickly. Arleo is flung across the enclosure and into the concrete wall, his bloody form splattering lifelessly to the ground. Clarke and Myles release panicked, shaky breaths as they watch the huge gorilla lean back and pound both of its fists onto its chests while it screams in triumph.

Myles snaps out of her horrified stupor when the beast looks at them on top of the rocks and she pulls the trigger three times. Each bullet hits the the gorilla, small spurts of blood indicating each hit but the large beast is barely fazed by the shots. The gorilla flinches when the first bullet lands directly in its neck, screeching angrily. A large chunk of rock or concrete is quickly flung at them, shattering against the top of the white stone wall behind them and Myles has to stop shooting to duck out of the way while the other two bullets barely have an affect on the beast.

Quickly flinging her gun up again, Myles pulls the trigger once more when the gorilla starts to climb up towards them. This shot takes the beast off guard and it falls off of the edge of the rock to land on the ground with a resounding thump. It stops roaring when it hits the bottom, and Lexa and Clarke release a relieved breath. Myles stays with her gun pointed at where the gorilla was, her hazel eyes staring at the empty space blankly in shock.

Clarke steps to the edge haltingly, leaning forwards to peer over the edge when the gorilla lunges up again, roaring loudly and the three girls jump back. Myles pulls her gun down to reach for Clarke and yank her towards Lexa and herself, and the commander quickly helps pull the blonde away.

"Run!" Myles shrieks in panic, turning sprinting towards the building to run away from the large beast.

Under the white stone wall is four wide concrete steps, and the girls jump down them hastily and duck under the man-made stone arch. The centuries old grey concrete is now various shades of green with age and lack of maintenance, but the colours of the walls quickly blend together when they rush past them. They're lead to a concrete floor that has another view of the enclosure, and they run to the metal railing to look down it for another way to go.

Nothing follows the metal railing, except a 20ft drop back into the enclosure, and Clarke's eyes are instantly drawn to a short door propped open by a metal beam in the corner of the stone wall. Something large clatters dully behind them and Myles whips around to see the gorilla looking directly at them from its spot perched on top of the white stone wall.

"Jump," Myles orders hurriedly, shoving Clarke's arm to jolt her into action as the beast barrels towards them.

Clarke doesn't hesitate like she did in Mount Weather, and the two Arkers jump down first. The landing sends sharp pain shooting through Myles' legs and makes it feel as if she's broken both of her ankles, but Clarke gets up quickly and surges forward. Myles stumbles for a moment after she awkwardly clambers to her feet, trying to breathe through the pain as her blonde friend dashes to reach the doorway. Just as she's starting to pick up her pace, Lexa jumps down behind Myles with a pained yell.

Myles stops in her tracks, spinning around to look at the commander while she lay on the dirt covered stone ground and grips her leg. Walking like she's had both of her shins kicked in, the redhead quickly reaches Lexa and wraps one of her arms around the young woman. Pulling her forward with a tight grip, the brunette limps heavily and Clarke meets them halfway to help the red haired teen pull the commander forward. A dull thump slams into the ground behind them as the gorilla jumps down and screeches menacingly, making the Earth rumble under their panicked boots.

Her blonde haired friend ducks down first, letting go of all but Lexa's hand and Myles keeps her arm around the young woman when they both slip through the short square hole in the wall. Lexa is suddenly yanked backwards, making Myles drop her gun as she desperately grips onto the commander with her good hand and the redhead kicks her legs out to frame the doorway when she slides across the floor. With Myles' burning legs keeping Lexa and herself from being completely torn away from the wall, Clarke's frantic hands grab onto the commander to help pull her back to them with a startled shout.

"Leave me," Lexa's voice pleads the two girls over the ferocious growl of the gorilla, and if Myles wasn't so focussed on keeping her grip on the young woman, she'd shake her head.

"Not a chance," Clarke declares, her voice overlapping with Myles' own protests.

"No fucking way," Myles grits out as she strains to tug Lexa away from the beast clawing at the commanders body. "Clarke, grab the gun!"

Clarke's hands leave Lexa and she picks the pistol up off of the ground beneath the doorway. The blonde haired teen pulls the trigger repeatedly, not stopping even when the gun clicks emptily or when the gorilla lets go of Lexa. As soon as the beasts grip on the commander slackens, Myles yanks the brunette through the concrete wall and on top of her. Clarke drops the gun when she finally stops clicking it uselessly, and Myles kicks the rusted metal beam holding the door up, knocking the metal sheet above them down with a stuttered, shrill clanging sound before scrambling back from the wall.

Lexa's limp is even worse now, the bloody scrapes up both of her legs and one of her arms clearly affecting the young woman as Clarke hauls her further away. The Arkers both falter when their eyes flick around their surroundings, seeing a very similar area to where they just were. It looks like they're in another enclosure, but this one is slightly skinnier and a lot longer, the walls predominantly lined with randomly sized bricks. Shooting forward to hook Lexa's good arm around her shoulders, Myles helps Clarke carry the commanders weight so she's not walking on her injured legs.

"Come on," the redhead grunts as Lexa groans in pain when they move forward. The gorilla growls from outside of the wall behind them, and it's only a matter of time before it finds them again, "Let's get the fuck outta here."

"Over there," Clarke quickly redirects, making them head to a rusted metal door that Myles couldn't see from her position.

Their hasty and frantic steps traverse the long room, before walking through the rusty door. A loud whine bursts from the centuries old hinges, making Myles cringe and her heart pound harshly. Random doors sit along through the large hallway, before Clarke shoves another door open, taking the girls to a closed off room with different stone brick walls. Like everywhere else, moss, greenery and rust colour the small room that resembles a prison cell. The only thing in the room is an old rickety ladder hooked up to chains with decaying plastic buckets hanging from them. Myles slips out from under Lexa's arm to pull out the sword that's tucked away on the commanders back.

"I need your sword," Myles declares, spinning around to slide the blade through the handles on the door.

Lexa continues making pained noises as Clarke carefully lowers her onto the ground. Sighing heavily, Myles turns to the panting girls before a loud banging on one of the walls outside of the room makes her jump. Bringing both of her hands to her head anxiously in bittersweet relief, both of Myles' shoulders sag while the redhead makes her way to Lexa and plops down roughly beside her. Clarke stands in front of them, her chest heaving as her blue eyes switch from the rust covered door to an injured Lexa.

"Dude," the red haired teen huffs breathlessly, rolling her head to look at the commander while she leans back on her arms to lie her tired body on the grotty floor. "Your life is so fucking hard. How do you do this everyday?"

Night falls quickly, chilling the three girls in the cold winter air, the moonlight streaming in from a small window on one of the walls hardly casting any light into the room. The gorilla had stopped pounding on the walls hours ago, leaving the girls in quiet peace to tend to Lexa's wounds. Myles is sitting on the floor in front of Lexa as she sits on the ladder and Clarke inspects the long scrapes on her right arm, hazel looking up at the other two with a bored expression. Clarke reties the sling around the commanders bad arm after checking the wounds, and Lexa's brown eyes flick to the blonde continuously while she works.

Swallowing, the commanders gaze gets stuck on the wall behind Myles' head before she speaks, "you should've left me behind." Red eyebrows twitch up and Lexa makes eye contact with her briefly before turning her head to Clarke, "now three will die here instead of one."

"You're welcome," Myles retorts dryly and Clarke rolls her eyes, stepping away from the commander.

"We're still new to your culture," the blonde starts tiredly, her lazy boots shuffling across the grimy floor, "but when someone saves your life… my people say 'thank you'."

"Not in my experience," the redhead scrunches up her red eyebrows, rolling her head limply to look at Clarke when she walks past her.

"I'm serious," Lexa states in a hard tone, and a clanging sound bangs behind Myles as her blonde haired friend yanks on the metal bars making up the wall opposite the door, leaving their only way out to be through the rusted door they entered through. "To lead well, you must make hard choices."

"Hard choices?" Clarke repeats in disbelief, stepping back towards the young woman. "You're telling me that?"

"I've seen your strength," the commander praises, pushing off from the ladder and stepping forward as well, "it's true. But now you waver. You couldn't kill Quint."

"Technically," Myles drawls out, feeling lonely suddenly, "I was going to kill Quint."

"You couldn't leave me to die," Lexa continues, barely sparing the redhead a glance. "That was weakness."

"I thought love is weakness," the red haired teen jibes awkwardly, and Clarke's face clouds over in confusion.

"You think love is weakness?" Clarke asks in utter shock, her blonde eyebrows lifting up high. Stepping back again, the blondes tone turns sour, "Is there anything you don't think is weakness?"

"Mockery is not the product of a strong mind," Lexa states calmly, watching Clarke walk back and forth slowly.

Myles snorts obnoxiously, rolling her head lazily to look at Clarke, "probably not, but we usually take what we can get."

Clarke stews silently for a little bit more, pacing back and forth as anger begins to sow it's seeds in her mind. The air is tight and tense, making Myles feel like she's a third wheel and she's watching a couple bicker back and forth.

"You wanna know why I saved you?" Clarke questions rhetorically, spinning back to Lexa and approaching her with faster steps. The antsy vibe flowing from the blonde doesn't bode well for the red haired teen, "because I need you. God forbid one of your generals becomes commander." Red eyebrows fly up in worried shock, terrified Clarke will dig her own grave, "You may he heartless, Lexa, but at least you're smart."

Flopping back to lie her back on a cluster of dead leaves cluttered over the gritty concrete, Myles brings both of her arms up to throw over her eyes and sigh in exasperation. A brief beat of silence follows the blondes snarky words, before the commander says with a small smirk in her voice.

"Don't worry," Lexa proclaims softly, "my spirit will choose much more wisely than that."

"Your spirit?" Myles queries, pulling her arms up to hold them in the air in confusion but not tilting her head to glance at the commander.

"When I die," the young woman explains gently, "my spirit will find the next commander."

"Reincarnation," Clarke summarises, the room goes silent again and Myles' aching mind grinds as it tries to understand what the fuck that means. "That's how you became commander."

"How are your leaders chosen?" Lexa enquires, shock and confusion displayed in her voice.

"The people," the red haired teen answers simply, propping herself up onto her elbows. Locking her hazel eyes on the commanders intrigued brown, "our people vote. A bunch of people who know the laws and the system say they want to be our leader, and everyone gets to write who they want to be the leader down on a piece of paper. The person who gets the most votes wins."

Lexa opens her mouth to say something when a loud banging shakes the ceiling, making flakes of the structure rain down on them. All of their heads snap up and Myles quickly scrambles to stand beside the other two. The banging continues, small chunks of the ceiling falling down on them before it ceases as the door rattles against Lexa's sword. An idea blinks through her mind, watching the rusted metal jolt and hearing the vicious growl from the gorilla.

"It found us," Clarke gasps out in fear, stepping close to the commander and pulling on Myles' arm.

The red haired teen opens her mouth to say her plan when the sword starts to bend at the violent force bashing on the door. Startled boots slip backwards, until all three of them are pressed against the metal bars in an attempt to get as far away from the door as possible. Myles' aching mind races through the fog cloaking her brain to figure out if they can still do the plan if they act now.

"Don't be afraid," Lexa proclaims breathlessly, and Myles would laugh at the absurdity of the statement if they weren't moments away from being torn to shreds. "Death is not the end."

"We are not dying here," Myles declares strongly, "give me a second, I'm thinking."

"We need your spirit to stay where it is," Clarke demands in a hard tone, and Lexa stalks with a limp towards the door.

"Then get ready to fight," the commander orders, coming to a stop and rocking on her feet slightly. "It's coming in."

"Then we'll let it in," the redhead suggests quickly, darting forward to stand behind the door. Where she's standing, the door will hit her when it opens and she can feel it bump and rattle against her as the gorilla pounds on it. "Stand over here," Myles looks from the two girls to the door, "get ready to move."

Lifting her shaking good hand to rest in the air under the middle of the sharp blade, her hazel eyes jut to the two anxiously shifting girls against the wall in front of her. Taking a short breath in to steady herself as the door rocks against her hand and side, Myles glances back to the sword.

"Now!" Myles exclaims, flinging her hand up to shove against the sharp blade.

The red haired teen doesn't feel the sting of the blade until after she ducks back into the corner to avoid the door rapidly swinging towards her. Instantly, the door flies open, and her bleeding hand catches it as the huge beast slides against the dead leaves on the ground until it rams into the metal bars noisily. Clarke and Lexa bolt through the door and Myles slips around it, yanking it shut behind her. Clarke's pale hands frantically pull the flat metal beam on the wall down to lock the door shut once again. Myles' ears start ringing at the piercing sound of the rusted metal scraping loudly as it is pulled down.

Quickly scrambling backwards against the hard concrete floor, the door rattles and shakes as the beast charges at it from the inside. Panting loud breaths, the three look at each other in utter relief, the cool sensation of there no longer being an imminent threat calming their racing hearts.

"Let's go," Lexa breathes, jolting the tired Arkers from their calm stupor and drawing their attention to finding a way out.

Breaking into an eager jog, Myles dashes forward the way they came. Clarke and Lexa's footsteps follow her, the latter's steps sounding sloppy from her limp. Backtracking their steps is easy, finding themselves with the bodies back in the gorillas enclosure within a few short minutes. It's not until they reach the pipe they entered through that Clarke stops the redhead.

"Woah," Clarke grabs Myles' right hand when she ducks down to walk into the pipe. "Your hand is bleeding."

"I grabbed the sword by the blade," Myles dismisses quickly, "I'm fine, keep moving."

It's significantly darker in the pipe now that the sun has set, but dull white moonlight flows in through the grate at the end, illuminating their path gently. Their hasty footfalls echo in pipe, before stopping when they reach the grate, leaving them with their echoing breaths. Pushing against the heavy grate, the rusted metal falls to lay on the grass with a dull thump.

"Come on," Myles urges, standing up straight and looking back at Clarke and Lexa as they exit behind her. "How do we get back to Tondc?"

"This way," the commander informs her, leading them south. "It's a few hours this way. We'll rest before going back, out of reach of pauna."

Hazel eyes lock on Clarke's worried blue as they follow the commander, "here, let me wrap your hand."

Myles rolls her eyes, gripping her grey shirt with her bloody hand and yanking it to tear the material. Clarke's pale hands help her rip the fabric and the blonde wraps the scrap around her hand as their steps slow in concentration. True to her word, after only walking for an hour, Lexa stops and declares this is where they will spend the night. Myles begins making a fire to keep them warm in the freezing winter air, and by the time she sits down, Clarke is already asleep. Lexa's brown eyes watch the sleeping blonde with a kind gaze that the redhead hasn't seen on the young woman before.

Turning her eyes to the fire, Myles watches the flames flicker and dance while she fights the alluring pull of sleep. Keeping her eyes held wide open, her hands twitch against her raised knees, looking between them blankly. She can feel Lexa's eyes turn to her, but she doesn't move to meet her gaze. Whenever her wide eyes blink, her fatigue threatens to hold them closed as her mind becomes fuzzy.

"You should rest," Lexa informs her after a few moments of silence. Hazel eyes fly up to look at her through the jittering orange glow, but she doesn't respond. "I will guard. Rest."

"I'm fine," the red haired teen mutters, glancing back to the fire blankly.

The commanders head tilts behind the fire pit, "You hardly rested on the walk to Tondc, and you didn't sleep at all last night. If you do not rest, you can't fight."

"Then you should rest," Myles suggests lightly, not shifting her gaze. "I'll be fine."

"Clarke lied," Lexa decides after a moment, the short sentence making hazel fly up and meet the young woman's brown eyes again. "She didn't save me because I'm smart. I would have died several times at the hand of pauna today, had it not been for you two."

"I'm not smart," the redhead refuses calmly, lifting up her right hand that's wrapped in a bloody scrap of her own grey shirt. "I grabbed the blade of a sword."

A smile cracks across Lexa's face, "even the bravest warriors must do stupid acts to win a battle." Myles tears her eyes away again, "why won't you sleep?"

Their eyes lock at the sincerity of the question, and Myles can't help the shiver that runs through her left arm, "Lincoln calls it brolhaken."

"Battle sickness," the commander translates, a knowing look cloaking her face.

Getting to her feet, Myles slowly walks over to plop down heavily beside Lexa. Lifting up her pant leg, Myles begins to pull at the gauze on the burr hole in her shin and show the commander the angry wound. Lexa takes a sharp breath of air in, her brown eyebrows furrowing at the irritated and clearly infected injury.

"The holes here," the redhead drops her pant leg to poke at her temples, "I have more on the back of my head." Turning to show Lexa the brutal injuries, "this is what the mountain men did to me."

"They put holes in your head?" Lexa asks in disgust as Myles lowers her hands from her hair and shifts to face the same direction as the commander.

Myles nods slowly, the motion hesitant and distracted while she leans forward to rest her arms on her knees again, "I hear them. All the time. Sounds that are only in that mountain, people who are only in that mountain." Her left arm shakes against her knee, "it never stops. I close my eyes, and when I open them again, I'm strapped to that table. They torture me again, and I see and hear things that aren't really there. Things that only happen outside of Mount Weather." Tilting her head sarcastically, "and then I close my eyes, and when I open them I'm in the woods."

"Hearing the mountain men," Lexa finishes with a knowing lilt to her voice. "They will pay for all they have done."

"That's the dream," the red haired teen sighs heavily, tapping her boots on the dirt anxiously. Silence falls over them again, and it takes a little while for the redhead to work up the courage to speak again. "May I ask you a question?"

"You may," the commander answers vaguely, not shifting her gaze from the sleeping blonde in front of them.

"What does 'yu gonplei ste odon' mean?" Myles queries, her eyebrows drawn together.

"Your fight is over," Lexa translates, glancing at the redhead with a perplexed expression. "You don't understand the words, yet you say them anyway."

"I don't need to understand them to know they have meaning," the redhead replies, shrugging lazily. "It could mean 'the sky is blue', I'll still say it because it has meaning to the people hearing it."

The commanders eyes stay on her for a moment, "that's why you crave death." Red brows scrunch together, and the young woman continues, "you want your fight to be over."

"I've been fighting to just…" Myles begins, thinking hard on her words, "survive since before I could walk. I'm _tired_."

"Skai-de ste ouska," the commander mutters after a long beat of silence, and Myles rolls her head to look at the young woman. "'The sky is blue'."

Huffing a quiet laugh, Myles shakes her head as she looks away again, feeling her long red ponytail sway heavily.

"I'll be sure to use that one next time."

The morning sun rises sluggishly over the horizon, lifting the dark veil of the cold night and fanning its beautiful, warm glow upon the Earth. Hazel eyes feel swollen as they stare tiredly at the flickering flames still burning in the small fire pit she'd made that night, her empty gaze trying to ward off the memories that threaten to consume her. Lexa sits between her and Clarke, watching the still sleeping blonde while birds begin to awaken and share with them their merry tunes.

Myles had spent the night making easy conversation with the grounder, telling stories of life in their separate worlds. Lexa had been shocked to hear that all they had ever eaten were tasteless, gritty blocks of dried nutrients, and Myles was fascinated to hear about the different clans. Grounders don't have last names, instead using their clan name, and Lexa had explained how they make their clothes and armour from cloth, leather and fur.

After trading knowledge and information about each of their peoples ways of living respectively, a comfortable silence falls over the two. Their relationship feels more friendly than professional now, and the shift is warmly welcomed by the redhead. Dotting her i's and crossing her t's with them had quickly become boring, and the rapidly skyrocketing anxiety she'd left Mount Weather with makes her restless and fidgety, needing something more to keep her interested.

The large gorilla roars in the distance, coming from the zoo and Clarke shoots up into a sitting position at the loud snarl. Both of the already awake girls look at the blonde, but Lexa is the one who speaks first.

"It's okay," the commander voices softly, and Clarke hesitates when turning around to face them. "You're safe."

Clarke's blue gaze flicks over the two for a moment before settling on Lexa, "how's your arm?"

"Hurts," Lexa answers simply, twitching her eyebrows.

The gorilla growls again, and blonde hair flies through the air as Clarke turns to face the way to the zoo again. If they're hearing the beast, it has probably broken out of that small room already, and will be looking for food.

"Now that you're up," Myles sighs out, rolling up and onto her feet. "We should go. Becoming pauna food isn't on my list of things to do today."

"Yeah," Clarke agrees, standing up as Myles stomps on the flames, sliding her boot around the hot ashes and ignoring the heat of the fire. "That cage won't hold forever."

"Wait," Lexa calls out suddenly, springing to her feet. The same tension from the room yesterday fills the air, and Myles takes an awkward step away from the smoking fire pit once the flames are all out, thinking about their plan for Mount Weather while they have their moment. "I was wrong about you, Clarke. Your heart shows no sign of weakness."

It's dead silent for a minute as the two stare at each other, before the gorilla shrieks loudly in the distance again. A thought crosses Myles' laggy mind and all of her movements still. Cogs grind in her aching mind, trying to quickly run through as many scenarios as possible.

"Holy shit," the red haired teen breathes, and the two girls turn to her.

"What is it?" Clarke questions, her nervous energy showing in her voice and the hesitant step she takes towards the frozen redhead.

"The cage won't hold," Myles whispers, spinning around to face her two friends. "I have a really psychotic idea to take Mount Weather, but I think it might actually work." Lexa's face lights up in shock and a relieved smile covers Clarke's features, "we've been trying to get inside, but they've already let us in."

"What are you talking about?" Lexa shakes her head, her brown eyebrows drawn in confusion.

"Aggie," the blonde haired teen probes when Myles only bounces on her heels anxiously as she wracks her brain for the right words.

"Your army is already there," Myles decides on, stressing the words and stepping towards them urgently. "Locked in cages. We just need someone on the inside to let them out."

"Bellamy," Clarke realises, turning her blue gaze from her red haired friend to Lexa.

The commander hesitates, meeting Clarke's eyes fleetingly before locking her strong gaze on Myles, "you have faith in him?"

"More than you'll ever understand," Myles answers without a second to think or hesitate.

"I hope your faith is well placed," Lexa states slowly, "because if he can't get inside, we can't win."

"He will," the red haired teen emphasises strongly, "he's the only one I believe can."

"Lexa…" Clarke urges as the two Arkers start heading south eagerly, "this is gonna work." The commander hurries after the two girls, "Come on."


	12. Chapter 11 - Coup de Grâce

Myles is getting the hang of this. The red haired teen bounces on top of a horse by herself, with Clarke and Abby beside her on their own horses. It no longer feels out of place, and as they race down the path with three grounders behind them, she can't help feeling _comfortable_ and _free_. Many books and movies on the Ark showed life before the war, and they greatly romanticised horses, but this isn't quite like that. It's _exhilarating_, it's _intoxicating_.

Her long red ponytail flaps against her back to the tune of galloping horses, their hard hooves thundering across the dirt path under the morning sun. The wind that slaps her in the face and brushes through her clothes is ice cold, and makes the skin of her right hand feel tight as it clutches the reins. Leaf-less winter trees slur past them, beautiful shades of brown with hints of green moss blending together as they fly down the path to Camp Jaha.

Abby digs her heels into the horse she's perched upon, forcing the whole group to slow down. Something itches at the back of Myles' head, and she can't stop herself from whipping her head around to scan their surroundings while a violent jitter courses through her left arm. A heavy pull sits in her gut, amplifying tenfold when Abby comes to a complete stop.

"Hold up," the doctor calls, quickly sliding off of her horse and walking towards a large puddle of water.

Hazel eyes scan calculatingly around them, the itch at the back of her head accompanying the distant buzz of a drill.

"Clarke," Myles drawls out when her blonde friend huffs as Abby crouches down and pulls out her water bottle. Blue eyes turn to her and Myles slides off of her horse, feeling too exposed. "We need to keep moving. Somethings not right here."

The words resonate with the blonde, and Clarke rapidly hops down to approach her mother, "mum. Why are we stopping?"

Abby stands to meet Clarke halfway, and Myles inches closer nervously as the grounders get off of their horses behind them, "you need to drink, too."

"I'm fine," Clarke assures in a hard tone, her red haired friends anxious shuffling and head turning putting her on edge. "We're almost home."

"Listen up," Myles declares, turning to the grounders patiently waiting. "Something's lurking near us, but our scouts patrol these woods. Be careful where you shoot."

A chorus of 'yes, ma'am's burst from the men and Clarke adds, "we're not stopping for long. Make sure you're ready to leave."

Clarke's subtle command gets the same response, a polite array of 'yes's as the men start to mount their horses again. Both teens turn back to Abby when she starts talking again.

"The grounders listen to you," the doctor observes, switching her gaze between the girls.

"Lexa told them to," Clarke divulges, her posture tense. Myles starts bouncing on her heels, her nervous energy completely consuming her features. "We shouldn't have stopped," the blonde haired teen breathes, turning to Myles, the only one left still on the ground. "Mount up."

"Clarke," Abby calls, stopping the two teens just before they reach their horses.

Myles pauses with her hands on her horse, her slender fingers touching the cool chestnut coloured fur as her splint shakes. Hazel eyes watch Clarke quickly rush back up to her mother, the blonde appearing a lot more exasperated than a moment ago.

"Mum," Clarke starts, her tone sharp, "we need to get back to that radio to see if Bellamy's made contact."

"Listen to me," the doctor calmly requests, her gaze strong as it bores into Clarke's eyes. "I know you don't think you need my protection anymore. But you do. You have to trust that I know what's right for us."

A red eyebrow lifts curiously when Clarke's jaw clenches, the blonde responding quietly, "I do… but I trust the Ghost, too."

"Okay," Abby relents weakly, flicking her brown gaze to the impatiently waiting redhead. "Let's go home," both mother and daughter duo turn around, walking towards the horses as the chancellor calls, "Let's move out."

The two moving back to the horses stirs the red haired teen into action, swiftly placing her foot in the stirrup and lifting herself up and onto the saddle smoothly. When Clarke reaches her horse beside Myles, a loud gunshot blasts through the air and the grounder directly behind the redhead shouts in pain. Whipping her head to look behind her, Orfo bends over on his horse with his arms wrapped tightly around his stomach before his grunts of pain become almost silent as he strains to breathe through his agony. Chills run through her stiff body, wide hazel eyes becoming frantic as they watch the warrior slip to the ground with a hard thump.

Abby and the other two warriors crowd around Orfo, trying to save his life but the icy blood running through the redheads veins quickly becomes hot and electrified. Myles recovers faster than Clarke, who's still standing frozen on the ground, and she whips her head to her left, behind Clarke and Abby's horses. That's where the shot had come from, and realisation instantly dawns on her, knowing that there's no way an Arker fired that shot.

"Mountain men," the red haired teen proclaims, and Clarke snaps her wide blue eyes to the redhead before quickly climbing onto her horse.

Pulling lightly on the reins with her good hand, Myles squeezes her legs and the horse immediately barrels forward. Steering the beautiful animal directly to where the shot was fired from, the red haired teen can hear Clarke following her and matching her speed as her ears rumble with adrenaline and Abby shouts for the warriors to follow them. Amongst the bushes on a slight incline in the distance, a mountain man in a hazmat suit stands, frantically snapping his head around, but he doesn't make a move to run away.

Three others join him, Indra and a warrior on one side and Octavia on the other, blocking him in. Octavia quickly closes in on he masked man, and something dark grips at Myles' heart as she watches the Blake sister fight him. Black war paint is smeared across her face and through the curtains of her long, straight dark brown hair is the grounders signature braids. The fight between the two is over relatively fast when Octavia slashes the mans hazmat suit with her long blade.

The mountain man falls to his knees as his desperate hands grapple to cover the slash made in his light blue suit, and Octavia grabs his head and holds it to her. Dread pumps through Myles' veins when the Blake sister places her machete to the mans throat, and the red haired teen flicks her wrist in a feeble attempt to make her horse go faster. Not only does he have answers, and they need him alive, but Octavia is far too innocent and young to ever have such a dastardly mark on her heart. Myles knows this from experience, and she'll be damned if she lets Bellamy's little sister be subjected to something so dark.

"Finish it!" Indra exclaims when Octavia only holds the mountain man to her for a beat.

"O!" Myles calls loudly, rushing the rest of the way up to them with Clarke and another warrior closely behind her. "No!"

The Blake sisters deep brown eyes snap to them as they slow to a stop in front of them, and Clarke continues, "he's from Mount Weather. We need to keep him alive."

"Check to see if he's got a patch kit," Myles requests, sliding off of her horse to jog the few metres between her and Octavia. Another mountain man lies dead before them, an arrow sticking out of his back and Myles' hands fumble with Octavia's over the still alive mans light blue suit. Indra and a warrior with a bow and arrow share a pointed look while the girls search the mountain man who shouts in pain, "we need to get him back to Camp Jaha."

Octavia thrusts the mans head away from her, sending him crashing to the floor to writhe around aimlessly. The warrior with the bow comes up to hold the yelling mountain man down as the two teens move to the dead man and his belongings. Myles' hands quickly check the dead mans suit, but Octavia moves to his bag and unzips it. When nothing besides a sniper rifle and some ammo is found on the dead man, the redhead shifts to join Octavia as she huffs over the bag.

Both teens pant quick breaths while their hands ruffle around rapidly, listening to the mountain man beg behind them. Octavia's hands freeze on the front of the bag, but Myles continues to check the rest of the pockets until the Blake sister lifts up several brightly coloured pictures to examine. Flicking her hazel eyes to the dark brown haired teen lazily, her whole body stiffens and she does a double take. The pictures in Octavia's hands are all high quality photographs of Clarke, Myles and Lexa near Tondc, their faces circled with red pen.

"What is that?" Clarke asks worriedly when Myles stills and gently takes some of the photos out of Octavia's hands.

"Us," the red haired teen breathes, flying to her feet and hurrying to show the blonde. "Lexa and us were the targets." Clarke freezes as she stares at the photos and Octavia stands, still looking at the few she holds in her hands. Myles whips around to face Indra as the Blake sister slowly makes her way to them, "we have to warn Heda."

Indra tilts her head up, speaking loudly, "sen op oso mou snap hosa gon Tondisi." The warrior behind Clarke, Altim, shifts on his horse, "nau!" **[AN: "send our fastest riders to Tondc. Now!"]**

Myles slips around Clarke's horse to swiftly pull on her horses reins as Altim turns and hurries off. Octavia stares at the teens with their horses, her deep brown eyes filled with worry but Myles' hazel gaze is stuck on the writhing mountain man yelling in pain between them and Indra. Bringing her horse up to stop beside the screaming man, Myles locks her eyes on Indra's hard gaze before letting go of the reins.

The second her hands grip the mountain man, he flails, but his weak movements are easily overpowered, even with one good hand. His screams only seem to become louder and louder, making the redheads ears ring as she lifts him up. Indra huffs, stepping towards the two when the mountain man starts fighting back again, flinging his arms back and whacking Myles in the face. Gripping the light blue thick plastic around his neck, Myles brings up her knee roughly to slam the back of his head down with a harsh grunt. When the limp man falls in a heap silently, Indra pauses but footsteps jog across the dirt behind her as she takes of her jacket hastily.

"Oh, my god," Octavia breathes, helping her red haired friend tie the jacket around the hole in the unconscious mans suit tightly. "Are you okay?"

Myles doesn't answer as she starts to lift the man off of the ground with the Blake sisters help, only grunting as she tries to ignore the sharp pain shooting through her broken hand at the mans weight. It's significantly easier now that the man isn't struggling, and it takes only a moment to toss him over the horse. The relief that floods through her veins when his weight leaves her arms makes the freezing winter air feel sweeter, a heavy sigh falling from her lips as her skin prickles over her skinny body. With her thick jacket gone, she's left in only a form-fitting grey shirt with strips torn from the bottom of it and sleeves that reach her elbows.

"The more I see of you," Indra's authoritative voice booms, "the more I see what the commander and Anya have seen in you." Hazel eyes flick to her, before Myles saunters up to place her foot in the stirrup and climb onto the horse. Red eyebrows raise at the warrior as her good hand lowers to help Octavia climb up behind her, the Blake sister sits flush against her back and holds the mountain man in place when Indra continues. "A warrior."

"I'd offer you a seat," Myles winks at Indra jokingly, getting her horse to trot past the woman, "but I've run out of room."

The last glimpse of Indra's dark eyes almost makes her fall over in shock. Amusement dances around dark brown irises, a small smile gracing her usually hard features and softening them.

"That's fine," the dark skinned woman replies stoically once they've completely passed her, "you ride like you're blind."

Everything erupts into chaos the second they reach the gate to Camp Jaha. Clarke had gone to get Abby and meet them there with the wounded grounder, and they have managed to reach the gate within seconds of each other. Myles hadn't heard the gate shut behind her and Octavia when Abby and Clarke started shouting to radio Jackson, but the two teens don't stop their fast galloping until they reach the doorway to H Corridor.

Before the horse can come to a full stop, Myles slides off and yanks off her pack. Pulling out her bedroll, the red haired teen quickly flicks it out as Abby and Clarke's horses stop beside them. A dozen guardsmen's boots sprint across the dirt to reach them as Octavia slips off of the horse and immediately helps the redhead lift the mountain man onto the material. Guardsmen take over carrying the man inside the hallway before the red haired teen can even register them there, and a quick flick of her eyes can see guards ready with the wounded grounder a step behind her.

The dull thumps of boots across dirt switch to the incessant sharp echoing of metallic thuds when their sprinting steps hit the Alpha Station's floor. Myles' heart thunders to the beat of their steps, and she slows down her urgent pace to run beside Orfo instead of the mountain man. Clarke quickly takes her place up front beside the guards who shout assertively, and the redhead barely has a moment to notice Octavia is no longer with them before a door whooshes open in front of them.

"Jackson," Abby calls loudly the second the door opens, "we've got two patients. You get the radiation burns, I've got the gunshot wound." The doctors hands are coated in blood from keeping pressure on the wound, and they don't leave the mans side even after the guardsmen place him down on a bed. "I need blood," the doctor orders, her brown gaze flicking up to the guardsmen as they step back, "O-neg. A lot."

Clarke speaks urgently to Jackson behind her, but her words are drowned out by the rapidly moving atmosphere in the room. Lifting up Orfo's side slightly, Myles slips her good fingers underneath to feel his skin and her wide hazel eyes lock on the doctors brown.

"Didn't go straight through," Myles mutters, her red eyebrows furrowing as she focusses on the feeling under her fingertips. Abby says something but the redhead can't hear it, not tuning back into the world around her hand until she feels exactly what she's looking for. "Bullets fragmented. Three pieces are at the back of his upper abdomen, moving around between his 11th and 12th ribs."

"Did it puncture the stomach?" Abby asks, and Myles spins around to quickly grab some pressure dressings off of the table against the wall.

"Can't tell," the red haired teen answers when she returns, shoving a dressing into the doctors hands to hold to the wound. Orfo's skin is incredibly pale and covered in a sheen of sweat, sending spikes of worry through Myles' chest. Placing shaky fingers to his throat, hazel eyes barely glance up as Raven enters the room and beelines for Clarke, "Doc, his heart rate is dropping fast."

Abby places her bloody fingers to his throat, feeling Orfo's pulse for herself while Raven and Clarke exchange heated words. Myles pulls up the warriors shirt to get a better look at the skin around the wound, thankful that Abby had taken the majority of his armour off before bringing him to Camp Jaha. Leaning over, the redhead tries to get a good look at his horrifically discoloured and bloody side to pinpoint the extent of the damage.

"Damn it," Abby huffs frantically and Jackson spins around to look at them. "I'm losing him, I need that blood now!"

Jackson quickly comes up beside Myles and she moves to cradle Orfo's head as the doctors work, "Come on, Orfo, stay with me." Brown eyes flicker open weakly, "Come on, fight. You're gonna make it through this Orfo."

"Is it through and through?" Jackson questions quickly beside her and Myles starts answering before he even finishes the question.

"No," the red haired teen rushes out, "three fragmented pieces sit between the 11th and 12th ribs, they're moving around and causing more damage. His side is black, the bullet's caused massive internal trauma." Tapping the warriors face again when he closes his eyes, "Come on, Orfo, just keep looking at me. I'll get you through this, just _fight_."

Brown eyes open wide for a moment, staring into Myles' hazel as the two doctors confirm everything the redhead had just said. Orfo's eyes flutter with a cloudy look but don't close, and Myles' heart stutters, knowing he's dying. The man lets out a quiet, long, strangled groan before freezing, his unseeing eyes staring straight ahead. Myles doesn't know what to do for a moment, staring into his dead eyes while her mind tries to comprehend the sudden shift. Her shaky hand, now lightly coated with blood from quickly examining the warriors wound, gently pulls Orfo's eyes shut before falling to her side.

"Yu gonplei," the red haired teen whispers, pulling out one of her knives that she got back when they left Tondc. Bringing the knife to his hair and starting to cut off one of his braids, "ste odon." **[AN: "your fight is over."]**

Pulling back and stepping away, hazel eyes finally look up from the dead man to see Indra approaching slowly. Her hand isn't shaking as hard as it was a moment ago when she holds out Orfo's braid to Indra, the adrenaline that was coursing through her veins quickly depleting. The dark skinned woman takes the braid, tearing her stony gaze from the redhead to look down at the dead warrior for a moment. After a tense beat, Indra lifts her head to look to Clarke standing alone beside the mountain man and stalks towards her.

"A killer lives," Indra grits out, slowing to a stop between the two teens, "but a warrior dies. This is your way?"

"I'm sorry, Indra," Clarke says with conviction, shaking her head, "but he can help us beat Mount Weather."

Stepping forward to come to a stop beside Indra, Myles adds quietly, "he's one of their warriors." Indra's dark eyes turn to her, "he might just be our army's way in. We might not have to wait for Bellamy, he might know the acid fog's blindspots."

"Then let me make him talk," the warrior orders slowly, her harsh eyes never wavering.

"No," Clarke refuses immediately, making Indra snap her head back towards her. "We're not torturing him."

"Clarke's right," Abby agrees, coming to join them, "he might just talk because we saved his life."

"After what you have seen them do," Indra starts, looking at Myles, "you don't want to give some of it back?"

Myles doesn't flinch, but her left arm shakes as she replies smoothly, "I'll get what I need in the mountain."

"Your people are so weak," Indra declares, sending one last pointed look over the group before she storms out of the room.

Clarke looks as though the words have slapped her in the face, distractedly fiddling with her hands and looking at the ground. Abby slips around Myles to stand beside her daughter and Myles looks around awkwardly. Trying to inch away from the mother and daughter discreetly, the red haired teen stops when Jackson walks up to stand beside her.

"Are you okay?" Abby asks her daughter softly, but Clarke doesn't even look at her when she flinches away from the question.

The blonde haired teen opens and closes her mouth for a moment, so Myles decides to end her suffering, "he's gonna need a transfusion." Both doctors look at her in confusion, so the redhead elaborates, "of our blood."

"I'll type him as soon as we can take off that suit," Jackson complies haltingly, and the blonde teens blue eyes jut to Myles' hazel.

Sensing Clarke wants to leave, the red haired teen walks around the table and moves towards the door. Clarke's footsteps quickly follow her, before they're both stopped by Abby's voice.

"Hey, girls," the doctor calls, rushing to reach them before they make it to the door. Turning to stare at the Chancellors brown eyes blankly, Myles slouches one of her shoulders and leans back, taking on an almost predatory appearance. Abby's bloody hands hesitate when they reach for her frustrated daughter, as if she'd forgotten how bloody her hands are until now. "Someone tried to kill you two today," the woman's kind brown eyes switch between them. "We lost someone. It's okay to be upset."

"I'll be in Engineering, Doc," Myles replies dismissively, ignoring the jitter running through her left arm and turning to continue to the doorway. Pressing the button to open the door, "waiting for Bell to radio."

And then she's through the door and back into H Corridor, listening to Abby sigh heavily behind her. It takes a moment for Clarke's rushed steps to catch up with her, but the two teens maintain a speedy pace as they traverse Alpha Station. People watch them with judge-y eyes when they pass them, the two disheveled teens looking severely out of place in the neat metal space station.

Blood coats Myles good hand and dots over the black splint covering her left wrist and most of her hand. She still walks with a slight limp, and her posture is sloppy from exhaustion and pain. Her delicate features are smeared with light grazes and bruises, coated in a thin layer of dirt that's stuck to her skin. The once neat and tight long red ponytail is lopsided and loosely sitting an inch lower than it had been, making the hair under the hairdo bunch up messily. Pale skin that's exposed on her arms, lower abdomen and chest bubble up with tiny goosebumps in the icy winter air, making the silver chain and heart shaped locket around her neck bite into her skin.

Clarke looks vaguely similar, matching her dirt slathered, bloody appearance and her rapid, confident strides. The blondes hair is down, two thin chunks from the front wrapping around to be tied together at the back of her head. Wearing her hair down accentuates the dull features of unwashed hair, making her blonde appear minutely darker and ashy.

"How do you do that?" Clarke enquires on their path to Engineering. The question jolts Myles back to the present, the words drowning out the distant whirring of a drill. "Not make any sound when you walk?"

"A habit," Myles answers vaguely, shrugging lazily, "I don't even think about it anymore. I just do it."

No one has come over the radio, only Jasper's message being repeated over and over on a loop. Now, she's back in Medical, leaning against a table behind Marcus with Clarke pacing to her left and Abby standing with her arms crossed between the teens and the councillor. The red haired teen had been standing up a smidge closer, staring at the mountain man, Carl Emerson, with the signature predatory stance and hard expression she had mastered on the Ark as a survival skill. That petty survival tic had been quickly squandered when Emerson only repeated the same exact six words in reply to anything and everything Marcus asked.

Hazel eyes watch the two men with a bored expression before flicking back down to shuffle through the pictures of herself, Clarke and Lexa from the mans bag, knowing that there isn't anything more to be done here besides _wait_. Wait for something, anything, to come over the radio or approach the gate to Camp Jaha.

"Please answer the question," the ever stubborn voice of Marcus implores, not backing down or showing any signs of giving up.

"Carl Emerson," Emerson recites, leaning against the glass door of the airlock that's keeping him in clean, radiation-free air. The mountain man is standing directly in front of Marcus, every bit as stubborn as the councillor, "Mount Weather Security Detail."

"You already said," Marcus rushes out as his patient stance wavers, "you don't seem to be grasping the situation here." Myles snorts loudly at that, looking from the photographs in her hands to the mountain man and Clarke's footsteps slow. "You should have died in the woods. We saved your life. Why not help us bring an end to all this?"

A beat passes, and Abby's excited straightening in her peripherals makes her eyes fly up to Emerson. The mountain man's eyebrows sit in a worried frown, his mouth opening and closing as if he's debating accepting the offer.

"Carl Emerson," the man says eventually, his eyes light with amusement. "Mount Weather Security Detail."

"I should've kneed you harder," Myles declares, looking back down to flip through the pictures with a disinterested expression. "My bad. Who knew assholes had thick skulls?"

"He's not gonna talk," Clarke deadpans, her contemplative footsteps echoing in the room as she paces.

"He will if we open the door," Marcus rebukes, not turning around during his serious tone.

Abby immediately waltzes forward, her determined steps reaching the airlock controls quickly. Dumping the pictures down on the table behind her, a sadistic smile graces Myles' face as she stalks forward to watch Emerson writhe. The man sits down on the bed behind him, watching the Arkers through the glass with a significantly less arrogant look on his face and the observation makes the chemically air in Medical feel lighter.

High pitched beeps sound from the control panel, and Clarke shuffles behind Myles as she picks up the photos from table. A shrill humming screeches through the air, before Abby spins to turn her hard eyes to Marcus.

"We are not doing that," the doctor announces in a hard tone, turning to stalk away from the airlock.

"We need to know what he knows," Marcus argues, following after the Chancellor, but Myles only steps forward slowly and comes to a stop in front of Emerson.

The smug look returns to his face, igniting a fire behind hazel eyes. An overwhelming urge to smash the glass with her bare hands is curbed by the distant sounds of Doctor Tsing and Mount Weather.

"Vulnerabilities," Marcus continues behind her, his reflection stuttering as he gestures exasperatedly while he speaks. "Troop numbers."

"She's right," Myles relents, not wavering in her silent staring at the eavesdropping mountain man. "Torture won't work."

"Aggie," the councillor reasons, stepping up behind her, "it could save your friends."

"I'm the Chancellor," Abby's hard voice reminds, clearly unhappy with the argument not ending.

"Then act like one!" Marcus explodes, and red eyebrows raise as she twists her head to watch the scene unfold. "I told you I would support you as long as I believe that you are doing the right thing."

"I am," the Chancellor countered, her authoritative tone booming in the metal room. Amused hazel eyes lock on Clarke's wide and frustrated blue, "and if you disagree… convene a vote and take my place."

Marcus' hands raise in exasperation, "I don't give a damn about the title. I just want to save our people."

"So do I," Abby insists, keeping her harsh stare firmly stuck on the councillor. Marcus throws his hands up again, storming angrily out of the room and red eyebrows quirk up. An awkward beat passes before the doctor turns to the guardsman in the corner of the room, "I want this man under 24-hour guard. Is that clear?"

The guardsman nods, and Abby hurriedly stalks out of the room as well, leaving the two teens behind. Walking up to Clarke with slow steps, the redhead tilts her head in a half nod and looks back at an amused Emerson.

"This place is a shit-show," Myles mutters, before glancing back at her blonde haired friend. "They have no idea what they're doing."

"Do any of us?" Clarke huffs, shaking her head and staring at Emerson with her eyebrows drawn together.

Looking between the girl and the mountain man, "this is boring. I should've been the one to go back to that fucking mountain."

"I'm glad you weren't," Clarke replies, locking her sincere blue gaze on the redheads hazel. "Bellamy wouldn't have been much help with Lexa or the gorilla."

Myles snorts, a humourless smile spreading across her face, "life on the ground, huh?" Nodding her head to Emerson, "Shame we didn't kill him."

"_This is Jasper Jordan_," her best friends voice repeats again from the radio sitting beside Raven. "_We need help. Forty-seven of us are trapped inside Mount Weather_." All of this going back and forwards is beginning to wear Myles down, either that, or it's the lack of any new developments. "_They've taken Harper. She may already be dead – _"

Raven switches on the cylindric radio that the mountain men carry to control the reapers, lighting up the top of the device blue while the constant high pitched tone blares into the still air in Engineering. With the piercing sound comes memories crashing in, making Myles' left arm jitter violently as her mind is overtaken with everything that is Mount Weather. The worlds no longer bleed into each other gradually, but flashing back and forth as if someone is flicking a light switch.

The burnt smell of fire lit torches mingles with the heavy stench of sweat and blood, the whole world dimming while animalistic growls from reapers tear through the air. Her fitted boots are no longer on the metal floor of Alpha Station, but untied, fur-covered shoes slip and slide up her heel while her desperate limping steps drag across coarse dirt and rubble. Excruciating aches blast through her tired and hungry body, accentuated with every weak motion her panting body makes.

Her back is pressed against the rocky wall of the tunnels under Mount Weather, and reapers cower away from the mountain men that swarm them, blasting that piercing tone. Thick hazmats suits crinkle and crackle as the men move towards them, their voices muffled through their gas masks.

"_Get back," a suit-clad man demands sternly, "get the hell away from them."_

"Aggie," Clarke shakes her arm, and hazel eyes snap to see her standing against the tunnels wall beside her. The grounders clothes that they stole from a pile on the ground beside the minecart practically swallow her stiff form. Her blonde eyebrows draw together in worry over her cut up face, "are you okay?"

Hazel eyes blink, and she's no longer in the dark tunnels under Mount Weather but the brightly lit Engineering room in Alpha. It's a seamless transition, the only two things that are even remotely reminiscent of their time in Mount Weather being the hand on her arm and the worried expression on Clarke's face. The cuts and grazes on her face aren't in the same place as they just were a moment ago, and she's wearing her blue top and jacket instead of the grounders clothes.

Nodding distractedly, red eyebrows furrow and turn to Raven as she finally registers the tone is no longer ringing in the air.

"_We don't know how much time we have left_."

"Yeah," her quiet voice rasps, not sounding like a word at all, and the two girls in the room look at each other in concern when her hazel gaze gets stuck on the radio.

"_This is Jasper Jordan_."

"Raven," Octavia calls, her footsteps pounding into the room behind Myles and Clarke. "Any word from Bellamy?"

"Nothing yet," the brunette reluctantly answers, and the Blake sister comes to a stop beside Myles.

"Lincoln's still missing, too," Octavia replies, looking off and lifting her arms in frustration.

"Wait," the red haired teen interjects over her best friends looped voice. Slowly bringing her blank eyes up to meet Octavia's deep brown, "Lilo isn't back yet?"

"No," the Blake sister frets, meeting Myles' empty eyes. "He should be back by now!"

"They'll be okay," Clarke promises sternly, holding Octavia's arm.

"They better be," Raven grovels, spinning back around in her seat to fiddle with something. "Your whole plan rests on Bellamy getting in."

"He will," Myles declares confidently, snapping her hazel to the brunette.

The awkward moment is quickly cut short by the P.A. system beeping to life.

A mans voice calls over the speaker, "Councillor Kane, Clarke Griffin and Agnes Mylinski please report to the South air lock immediately."

"'Agnes Mylinski'?" Octavia scrunches her face up in confusion when Myles sighs heavily, turning her perplexed deep brown to the red haired teen, "is that your name? We've all been calling you by your last name?"

Spinning on her heels, the redhead barely glances at the Blake sister as she quickly hurries out of the room. Clarke's footsteps follow hers, but the blonde turns back to the two left behind.

"We'll finish this later," Clarke dismisses before catching up with Myles. Blue eyes turn to her, but the red haired teen pointedly doesn't meet her gaze. "Agnes, huh?"

"No," Myles huffs, red eyebrows twitching on her face, "he wasn't even close. That man's a liar."

"Why would he say Agnes?" Clarke queries, her tone bubbling with curiosity.

"It's almost like a part of my name," the redhead shrugs evasively, before a prying look from Clarke makes her continue. "It's long and weird. No one says it right."

"Long and weird?" The blonde haired teen quizzes, "what the hell kind of name do you have?"

"Trust me," Myles sighs, her shoulders sagging in defeat, "it's so much easier to just call me Myles."

The two of them bump into Marcus not far from H Corridor, and the three called upon walk together. Nervous energy flutters through Marcus' body, emphasised in his quick strides, but Clarke and Myles remain calm, following him curiously. There's not much on the ground that surprises the blonde, and even less that surprises the red haired teen, leaving them either frustrated or anxious in any given situation. Marcus and the rest of the Arkers don't seem to catch on to the teens train of thought, and both girls can't help giving each other a knowing look. The two of them sharing the same burning desire to stop the Arkers from ruining their plans and progress on the ground, and with each passing moment, they get more and more restless.

If the two girls had been in charge for the entirety of the Finn situation, the resolution could've been made a long time ago and Camp Jaha would be held in a higher standing in the commanders eyes. All Marcus, Jaha and Abby have been able to achieve since their landing on Earth is to destroy every last shred of progress the two teens have made, making them have to start all over again.

"Did he say something?" Marcus rushes out the second the door slides open and Abby comes into sight, leaning against the airlock door.

"No," the doctor replies simply, sliding her hand away from the glass to turn to the three approaching her. "But his blood did."

Hazel eyes lock on blue, Myles muttering quickly under her breath, "if she says what I think she's gonna say, I'm going to kill him."

"Jackson found genetic marker anomalies that can only come…," Abby glances towards the two teens, "from someone who was born on the Ark."

"It's started," Clarke weakly states as Myles brings her hands up to her head in distress, the harsh material of her splint scratching against her skin.

Marcus looks at the two teens horrified and angry expressions, before turning back to the Chancellor, "it didn't come from the blood transfusion that we gave him?"

"No," Abby answers with a downtrodden sigh, but fiery hazel eyes watch Emerson pace around with a smug expression on his face. His radiation burns are almost completely gone, uncovering his sharp features, "I took the sample before that."

"They're bleeding our friends," Clarke continues bitterly, neither one of the teens shifting their searing gaze from the mountain man.

Myles' whole body is shaking violently, flashes of her memories in Mount Weather appearing behind hazel eyes, but Clarke is dead still. The blondes frozen form radiates tension, and Myles is almost certain they're thinking on the same wavelength.

"We don't know that," Marcus tries to soothe, staring at the two worriedly.

"Yes, we do," the red haired teen bites out, tearing her hands from her head. "We were genetically engineered. They weren't."

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, Myles shoots forward with determined steps. Something in her eyes or her long strides must warn Marcus of her murderous thoughts, because the man bristles.

_What's a little more blood?_

"What are you doing?" Marcus quizzes, stepping in front of the closet thing he's ever had to a daughter and stopping her quick movements.

Hazel eyes lock on the mans brown when he stops her, her strong gaze burning into his, "killing him." Pulling her arms from his kind grip, Myles moves to slip around him, but the councillor is prepared. His hands grip her forearms and he holds her still, making the redhead thrash her arms weakly, "get out of my way, Uncle Marcus."

"Hey, hey," the councillor probes gently, ducking his head to meet their eyes. "Calm down. That's not going to help you."

"Yes, it will," Myles whimpers, Marcus swimming and blurring as tears fill her eyes and her movements still. "I need to."

"He's bleeding our friends," Clarke's hard voice shouts behind the red haired teen, the blonde stepping close to the redhead.

"Clarke," Abby's voice warns in shock. Clarke takes a shaky breath in and meets her mother's harsh gaze, and the woman looks between the two girls, "you two are not in charge here." The woman's unshakable tone hardens Myles, flicking her eyes to Clarke as her calculating mind turns the words over. "We do things my way."

Bitter and defeated hazel lock on the concerned brown of Marcus, before pulling away from his grip and storming out of the room. Clarke follows not a second later, and as soon as the door whooshes shut behind them, Myles turns to the blonde.

"I'm not a leader," the red haired teen whispers, keeping her steady gaze on her blonde haired friends blue. "But apparently, neither are those two. We need someone who won't get everyone killed."

"_This is Jasper Jordan. We need help_," the radio crackles out repetitively on Ravens desk while she works, her best friends voice is the first thing that Myles hears as she and Clarke approach the door to Engineering with rapid and distressed steps. "_Forty-seven of us are trapped – _"

"We're too late," Myles declares when she walks through the threshold, and the brunette snaps her head up the two of them.

"They're already bleeding them," Clarke finishes as she comes to a stop behind Raven, but Myles walks all the way up to the radio beside Raven, staring down at it.

"_They've taken Harper. She may already be dead. We don't know how much time we have left_."

"It's over," the red haired teens hoarse breathes out, brushing her fingers over the device longingly.

"No," Raven stands up suddenly beside her, her head snapping between the two of them. "You can give up Clarke, but Myles – you don't get to give up." Defeated hazel eyes flick up to meet the brunettes ablaze brown, "You're the Ghost, and you _never_ give up," Ravens voice wavers through her words, "you were in the Skybox, and you didn't give up. Every day down here, you didn't give up." The brunette lifts her hand to push on Myles' shoulder harshly, "you gave Finn away, and I didn't give up. I'm building a damn tone generator, you do your job."

"What is my job?" Myles grits out, her tone weaker than the brunettes.

"You save everyone!" Raven shouts, "you always come up with something."

"I have tried," the redhead pleads with Raven to understand, her red brows sitting in a worried frown on her forehead.

Suddenly, the radio signal quivers with static and Jasper's message goes quiet. Hazel eyes snap to the radio, her gaze widening as her heart flutters with hope.

"_Camp Jaha_," Bellamy Blake's beautiful voice flutters over the radio, and Myles falls to her knees, staring at the device. "_This is Mount Weather. Anyone read me?_"

"Holy crap," Raven breathes above her as Myles good hand fumbles for the radio and Clarke hurriedly steps up behind her.

"Yeah," Myles breathy voice replies once she presses the transmit button, "we read you, handsome."

"_Aggie?_" Bellamy responds, sounding equally as relieved as the red haired teen.

"Are you alright?" Myles quickly asks, worry and dread sitting heavily on her chest.

"_I'm fine_," the Blake brother answers, and the redhead sags, pressing her forehead against the edge of the table. "_But that's the good news. We have to talk fast. Something has changed. Jasper, Monty, everyone, they just locked them in the dorm_."

"But they're alive?" Myles questions, rising to her feet to lean over the table with the other two. "All of them?"

"_I think so_," Bellamy supplies, "_for now. Maya says they're already using their blood. And things are gonna get ugly in here real fast_."

The three teens look at each other with wide eyes, and Myles presses the transmit button again at the girls name.

"Maya's with you?" Myles confirms, relief and respect fluttering through her body for Jasper's crush.

"_She helped me escape_," the Blake brother crackles over the radio. Red eyebrows draw in confusion, "_if not for her, I'd be dead_." A tense pause follows as the reality of the mans words wash over her, "_and Aggie, there are kids in here. We need a plan that doesn't kill everyone. Please tell me we have one_."

Myles gulps, "I hear you." Taking a steadying breath before continuing, "But we can't do anything until you disable the acid fog. Raven's gonna help you."

"_Got it_," her boyfriend readily answers, and the teens look at each other again. "_What else?_"

"You have to figure out a way to free the grounder prisoners," Myles replies, "there's already a whole army inside that mountain and they don't even realise it."

"_Trojan horse_," Bellamy praises, "_good plan_."

"What does Maya think?" The redhead queries, the thick sense of dread still looming over her. "Is it doable?"

"_She says it's not a problem_," the Blake brother instantly agrees, and all three teens let out a quick breath of relief. "_Aggie, if I'm gonna pull this off, I need you to buy me some time. It won't be long until they realise I don't belong here_ _and if that happens – _"

"That can't happen," the red haired teen cuts her boyfriend off, refusing to dwell on the idea. "I'll come up with something."

"_Come up with it quick_," Bellamy breathes, and hazel eyes snap to blue.

"Copy that," Myles agrees, tearing her eyes away from Clarke's to stare at the radio again. "And Bell?"

"_Yeah?_"

"I knew you would come through," the redhead praises, her voice strong with conviction. Adrenaline pumps hotly through her veins, reminding her that she's alive and has things to do. "Stay alive. I love you."

"_I love you, too, Aggie_," Bellamy replies, and Myles pats Raven on the back before turning away from the table.

"You're up," the red haired teen informs the mechanic, locking eyes with Clarke and moving to rush out of the room. "We're on, princess."

"What are you gonna do?" Raven enquires when both Myles and Clarke reach the doorway.

The red haired teen turns around, slouching back predatorily with a smug look on her face, "buy him some time. We're gonna keep them busy on the outside, instead of the inside."

Their determined steps march down H Corridor again, but this time, Clarke and Myles aren't alone. It was ridiculously easy to get some of the Arkers on their side, and it was even easier to get the grounders alongside them. Behind the two teens, half a dozen footsteps echo against the metal floor, bouncing off of the walls of Alpha. Turning her head to lock her determined hazel on Clarke's strong blue, both girls wear matching smug looks across their faces and ooze an authoritative air. Out of the corner of her eyes, Myles can see Octavia, Indra and several of the grounders warriors marching behind them.

Pressing the button to Medical, the door whooshes open, and the group continues up to the guardsman standing guard in front of Emerson's airlock. The arrogance and confidence only intensifies inside of Myles when she recognises the guard to be Sergeant Harrison. Sgt. Harrison's hand twitches as the group march towards him, and he opens his mouth but Myles cuts him off.

"Don't," the red haired teen orders, slowing to a stop when she and Clarke reach him. Locking her hazel eyes on his brown, "I'm calling in that favour, George."

"Are you going to help those kids in Mount Weather?" Sgt. Harrison asks, his arms hanging limply by his sides.

"We are," Clarke answers definitively, matching her red haired friends hard gaze.

"I need him to get dressed," Myles replies vaguely, and a dark smile twists across the guardsman's face.

"Then you're not calling in a favour," Sgt. Harrison retorts, stepping away from the airlock. "Do your thing, Ghost."

Locking her hazel eyes on Emerson as he shifts on his feet, the redhead repeats, "get dressed. You're coming with us."

"Where are we going?" Emerson enquires, squinting his eyes at the two teens.

"Home," Clarke supplies simply, and the mountain man's features cloud over in shock.

Tilting her head, Myles can feel her long red ponytail sway against her back when she speaks, "you might want to put that suit on."

Whether it was something in the two teens eyes, or the tone they spoke with, Myles doesn't know, but Emerson smirks and quickly grabs his suit. Clarke saunters over to the airlock controls, and presses two buttons before resting her hand over a large red switch. Blue eyes turn to Myles, but the redhead doesn't meet her gaze until Emerson is fully suited up. The second their eyes meet, Clarke flicks the switch and the glass airlock doors slowly open with a gust of air.

Indra's warriors quickly slip around Myles, their rough hands eagerly gripping the mountain man and hauling him out of the airlock. Hazel eyes watch him, before turning and storming out of the room with Clarke by her side. The two girls lock gazes and smile darkly as they make their way out of Alpha with the grounders keeping a tight grip on Emerson.

It's almost pitch black outside, the only light coming from the moonlight raining down on them, and the flashlights and fire pits scattered over the Camp Jaha land. Echoing metallic thumps turn to the consistent crunching of the Earth beneath their feet as they beeline for the gate. Goosebumps flutter over Myles' jacket-less arms, the cold winter air nipping sharply at her skinny body. Curious heads turn to them, watching the group escort the mountain man through the camp. They're halfway to the gate when Abby and Marcus shoot up from their seats at the bar and rush to them.

"Aggie," the councillor calls, jogging up to them and Indra hastens her pace to walk closer to the teens, "What are you doing?"

"Clarke," Abby's hard voice demands, standing in their way and forcing the teens to stop. "Stop."

"No," the blonde replies, her tone equally as hard. "We're letting the prisoner go."

"Absolutely not," the Chancellor refuses, shock and disbelief cloaking her features.

"He hasn't told us anything yet," Marcus tries to amend, looking between the teens.

"He doesn't have to," Myles declares, meeting their strong gazes with her own. "He's gonna tell them something."

Abby scoffs, before turning to address the guardsmen behind her, "get the prisoner back to the airlock. Now."

"Yes, ma'am," a few guards reply, stalking towards them before jolting to a stop and lifting up their rifles when the grounders around the teens yank out their weapons.

"We said," Myles repeats loudly, looking at the frozen guardsmen around them with their weapons drawn, "we're letting him go."

"That's the Ghost," Sgt. Harrison appears behind them, walking up to the commotion slowly. The statement gets an instant reaction from the Arkers, all of the guards heads snap to the redhead as their hands shift over their weapons and their boots shuffle hesitantly. Only two guardsmen stay firm, "do what she says."

Content the guardsmen won't stop them, Myles turns her hard eyes back to the baffled Chancellor, "you may be the Chancellor…"

"But we're in charge," Clarke finishes, neither of the teens backing down or wavering in their stance as Abby's face falls.

"Indra," the doctor calls shakily, not tearing her eyes away from the two teens in front of her, "tell your people to stand down… before this gets out of hand."

"No," the dark skinned warrior says simply, and Clarke lifts her chin up higher.

"People could get hurt," Abby tries quietly, and Myles takes a predatory step forward to stand toe to toe with the Chancellor.

"Not if you get out of our way," the red haired teen promises darkly and Clarke comes up beside her.

"You need to trust that we know what's right for us," the blonde states, maintaining eye contact with her mother.

"The grounders trust them," Marcus announces, "the kids trust them. Our people trust them. Maybe we should, too."

Abby tilts her head, thinking the councillors words through before stepping back, "let them through."

Clarke and Myles march forward, continuing up unrestrictedly to the gate with the grounders hauling Emerson behind them. When they get closer to the gate, Myles tilts her head.

"Open the gate," the redhead calls out in an authoritative tone, never once wavering in her determined stance.

"Now," Clarke adds, when the guardsmen start to slowly comply.

The two men standing beside the metal gate hasten, pulling the gate open with an airy whoosh as the group approaches them. Clarke and Myles stop inside of the gate, and the grounders don't stutter in their steps to bring Emerson in front of them. Small flecks of white and yellow reflect off of the hazmat suits mask back to the teens from the lights inside of Camp Jaha, partially blocking the arrogant look on the mountain man's face.

"Can you hear us alright?" Clarke questions, staring into the mans smug eyes, "because I need to make sure you get this."

"Loud and clear," Emerson replies shortly, locking his eyes on the two girls.

Blue eyes flick to Myles, but the redhead is already talking, "I have a message for Cage, your leader. We're coming for him." Emerson's eyes flicker with amusement, "he's got you watching us, but you haven't seen anything. The grounder and Skaikru army is bigger than you think. And even if you could find it, your acid fog can't hurt them. And now… thanks to you…" the red haired teen lifts the tone generator they took from his bag, switching the tone on, "neither can the reapers."

Switching the tone off, Myles takes great satisfaction at how Emerson's face falls as he watches the cylindric device get tucked into the redheads jean pocket.

"So you have one last chance," Clarke adds, when the mountain man lifts his eyes back up to meet theirs above the condensation his breath leaves on his mask.

"Let our people go," the redhead finishes, "and we'll let yours live. It's just that easy."

"I got it," Emerson replies, the smug look appearing on his face again.

The mountain man's expression makes the chill running through Myles' body feel a lot more pleasurable as she steps forward to pull at the man's oxygen tank strapped to his side. Gently tugging the valve connected to the hose off of the hook to look at the little red arrow indicating how much air he has left.

"It's an eight-hour walk back to Mount Weather?" Myles asks rhetorically, her red eyebrows drawn together as she notes the notches labelled with hour marks. Emerson doesn't answer, merely blinking blankly but it's all the redhead needs to know she's right. Pressing down on the metal opening at the end of the valve, cold air starts hissing out, chilling her fingers to the bone and making them feel numb. Hazel eyes watch the little red arrow dip down slowly as the oxygen in the tank is slowly released. Lifting her fingers away from the valve when the arrow dips just under a quarter of the tank left, the red arrow stills, "you're gonna need to do it in six."

"Six hours?" Emerson grits out, his arrogant expression long gone when Myles looks back at him. "That's not enough. How am I supposed to deliver your message?"

"That's your problem," Clarke informs him, stepping up beside Myles. Emerson's face twitches aggressively, "Now go."

Immediately, the grounders release the mountain man's arms and Emerson backs up slowly, maintaining eye contact with the teens. Once he's passed all of the grounders warriors, he turns and starts to jog into the tree line. Hazel turn to Clarke's blue the second the mountain man is out of sight, and both teens shift to enter into Camp Jaha.

"Clarke, Myles," Octavia bites out, looking bitterly at the ground before flicking her angry eyes up to the two teens. Black war paint is smeared over both of her eyes, accentuating the harsh look she sends them, "do you wanna explain to me how this helps my brother?"

"I just told them we have a secret army to worry about," Myles explains slowly, not fazed by the teens angry eyes. "The more they're looking at us, the less they're looking at him." The Blake sister grits her teeth, turning her gaze to the dirt again, "Bell is the key, O. To everything. If he dies, we die, and I'll be damned if I let anything happen to him, do you hear me?"

Octavia nods slowly, and Clarke presses forward, walking back into the camp but Myles stays looking into the Blake siblings deep brown eyes for a moment more. Flicking her hazel gaze to Indra, the fierce woman meets her eyes instantly.

"I hope your warriors are ready," Myles states, stepping up to the dark skinned woman. "We're gonna have one hell of a fight on our hands."


	13. Chapter 12 - Rubicon

Clarke is imploding. The anxious waiting for anything to come from Mount Weather is slowly crushing her, and the two warriors tasked with being the two girls' bodyguards are only emphasising the paranoia both teens feel. It's been two days since they let Emerson go, and they've yet to hear anything new from inside of the mountain. The forty-seven Arkers in Mount Weather are still locked in the dorm, their fates dangling before their eyes.

Myles is as uneasy as her blonde haired friend, but she's too exhausted to radiate the frustrated exasperation Clarke is. The redhead had managed to pass out over the last two days, the lack of sleep catching up with her quickly before completely consuming her. It hadn't been pleasant, where Clarke is being consumed by anxiety while she's awake, Myles' torment waits until she closes her eyes. Perhaps the red haired teen would be matching Clarke's distressed outwards appearance if she didn't still feel so fucking tired.

Their footsteps echoing through Alpha Station egg on the two teens constricting hearts, making the metaphorical hand squeezing their insides tighten with every sharp metallic thump. Ryder and Vero stick close behind them, keeping up with their hasty pace and not mentioning the growing tension in the cool air. The dark purple, almost black looking, jacket over Myles' ripped grey shirt stops the skinny redhead from freezing, but the material is small and tight, clinging to her form.

Rounding the corner to march down the hallway towards Engineering, the heavy brick of dread that sits in her gut lightens slightly. Turning into the open door, Raven stands in front of a clear board with a detailed map of Mount Weather scrawled across it in yellow, green and blue marker. Anything of the facility that Clarke and Myles hadn't seen to be able to transcribe, Bellamy had ventured into and had made note of everything that he could.

"Has he checked in yet?" Clarke's anxious voice asks the second she lays her eyes on Raven.

"No," the mechanic answers simply, before turning around to look at the teens fleetingly. Ravens brown eyes land on the two warriors standing close behind Clarke and Myles, and the mechanics eyes turn cold. "Worried someone's gonna take a shot at you inside the Ark?"

Red eyebrows quirk up at the sharp tone in the brunettes pointed statement, the cold words and harsh look making Myles' veins feel icy. Spinning around smoothly to look at the two men behind them, hazel eyes lock on the blank expressions on their faces.

"Could you two give us a moment?" Myles requests, trying to balance out Ravens snarky comment with a polite tone.

Instantly, both men nod once and walk out of the room. Tired hazel eyes watch the two men's retreating forms until Clarke's equally as snippy voice speaks up.

"Lexa's orders," the blonde informs Raven shortly, but the mechanics hard eyes aren't looking at the two anymore.

"Whatever, Clarke," the brunette replies evenly, staring at the map on the board and twisting something in her hands.

Myles looks at Clarke, meeting her nervous blue gaze and lifting a red brow at the mechanics attitude. Her gaze flicks down to the radio on the table behind Clarke, and her left arm jitters as her body becomes electrified with anxious energy.

"He's late," the redhead frets, bouncing on her heels and bringing her right hand up to her long, tied back hair. "Do you think Maya would let us know if something's happened to him?"

"He'll be fine," Raven supplies, but it does very little to curb the two teens worry.

Turning away, Myles brings her splint-covered left hand up to her hair, letting the rough material scratch against the back of her right hand. Her short steps pace slowly behind Raven, her restless energy getting the better of her aching bones. When she turns back around, Clarke has shifted, standing closer to another board with a diagram of the dam, a long string of equations raining down under the hasty drawing.

"You've been busy," Clarke acknowledges, looking at the mechanic with a perplexed expression. Myles turns away again as the blonde continues, "Why are you focusing on the dam?" Clarke's footsteps sound in the room, interrupting the redheads quiet pacing to stride over to another map, "I told you acid fog was our priority."

Clarke's restless energy cloaks her voice, making Myles spin back to face the other two at her sharp tone. The blondes face is stony with her blooming anger, keeping Myles' red eyebrows raised high as her hands press down harder on the top of her head.

"Clarke," the red haired teen warns, but the blondes blue gaze doesn't shift from Raven.

"Until Bellamy gets eyes on their dispersal system there's only so much I can do," the mechanic explains evenly, levelling Clarke with a hard stare.

"Which is great," Myles starts slowly, spinning back around to continue her pacing. "Because their high-tech equipment might mean that we need other options, and nows the time to plan them."

"Fine," Clarke huffs, and Myles turns back to them as she paces. Raven's brown eyes are looking at the redhead with appreciation glimmering behind exhausted frustration, "tell us about the dam. Can we cut off their power?"

"Maybe," Raven responds, but the way she says the high pitched word doesn't bode well for the teens. "I'm still playing with a few things."

Clarke picks up the Mount Weather tone generator from the table when Myles spins away again, turning her back to the other two while she paces. The shrill humming from the cylindrical device pierces through the air, and makes the redheads ears ring. Silent flashes of drills and reapers stutter into her vision, yanking her back to Mount Weather forcefully. Hands grip her vividly and excruciating pain blasts through her body, completely overwhelming her senses with the all-consuming feeling of being suffocated, of _dying_.

As quickly as it came, all of the unbearable pain disappears. The ache that lives in her drilled bones feels almost nonexistent after reliving a devastatingly enormous amount of pain, and the stark contrast of the two realities leaves her feeling empty. Her boots are planted firmly on the ground, the only sounds in the room being Clarke's vague voice chastising Raven. Everything feels lifetimes away, as if she's dreaming that she's with her friends, watching the scene instead of being in it.

Hazel eyes blink blankly, slowly shifting her numb body to look at the other two teens just to verify that they really are there. It's like a movie, seeing things play out but not being abłe to feel them. The nothingness that courses through Myles' veins doesn't let her _feel_ that she's turned around, doesn't let her _feel _her body move, only allowing her to _see _it. There's no pit in her stomach, no fog over her mind, just the fuzzy feeling of _nothing_.

Myles' life usually feels as if she's standing knee-deep in the ocean, her feet shifting in the sand as her whole body is thrashed around and pulled under by the push and pull of the salty waves. The flashes of Mount Weather are the desperate thumps of her heart and the burning of her lungs as her hands try to claw their way to the surface before her head explodes. This, this is _death_. She's only felt it a handful of times, the tranquil peace that follows the instinctual gulp of water your body takes seconds before the pounding pressure in your head, from holding your breath, makes you blackout and drown.

It's not happy or sad, desperate or angry, it's peace. Pain no longer consumes Myles' consciousness, instead being overtaken with the blissful sense of _nothing_.

"There'll be reapers everywhere," Clarke continues to patronise Raven, the redheads detachment going unnoticed by the other two.

"High-frequency tone generators don't grow on trees, Clarke," the brunette snaps, stalking up to the blonde when she rolls her blue eyes. "Wick is scrounging for parts."

"Raven," Clarke cuts the mechanic off, "we are about to leave for Tondc… where Lexa and the heads of all 12 grounder clans are waiting for us to tell them we're a go. Only, we're not a go, because they still have acid fog and we only have two tone generators."

Raven stays quiet, letting the blonde finish her rant before stepping closer to her haltingly, "Hey." Reaching a hand out to touch Clarke's arm reassuringly, "we'll be ready." Clarke's blue eyes turn to her disbelievingly, and the mechanic repeats her sentiment, "we will."

Clarke starts to nod, when her eyes swing over to Myles and she does a double take, "Aggie?"

The blondes features are no longer stony and frustrated, but droopy and soft with worry as she takes slow steps towards the redhead. Brown eyes quickly find her blank hazel, and Raven doesn't match Clarke's slow approach, instead rushing up to Myles.

"Are you alright?" Raven asks, grabbing the red haired teens arm when Myles doesn't respond.

"Aggie," Clarke breathes out, appearing right beside Raven and bringing one of her hands up to hold the back of Myles' head. "Look at me," when the redhead doesn't comply, the blonde taps her fingers against her red hair. Hazel eyes sluggishly look towards Clarke's blue, but they stare straight through her, "Come back here. You're okay."

"What's happening?" Ravens muddled voice questions, the concerned lilt in her voice matching the frown in her eyebrows.

"It was the tone generator," Clarke realises, "we heard it in Mount Weather. Aggie, you're in Camp Jaha. You're okay."

Understanding flutters across the mechanics face, before she spins around and rushes to the table behind the redhead. Clarke's repetitive words drawl out, sounding farther and farther away before another loud tone screeches out beside her right ear. Hazel eyes stay looking through her blonde haired friend for a moment before the dull staticky tone finally registers in her mind and her gaze clears, blinking back into focus.

"Hey," Clarke latches onto the clarity in her eyes, brightening when hazel locks on her blue. Red brows draw together tiredly as the drained feeling starts to fill up the shallow hole in her chest, "You're okay. You're with us."

The loud static stops, and Myles turns her head to catch the worried brown eyes of Raven. Half of a pulled apart walkie-talkie gets carelessly tossed onto the table to her right, before the mechanic is in front of her again.

"Are you alright?" Raven repeats, her brown eyebrows sinking lower on her forehead.

"Yeah," Myles croaks, swallowing dryly and nodding distractedly. "I'm alright."

"Maybe we should – " Clarke starts kindly after a heavy beat, but the radio behind her crackles to life, cutting her off.

"_Ark Station_," Bellamy Blake's voice calls, and a huge weight lifts from Myles' shoulders when her eyes snap to the device. "_Do you read me?_"

Rushing around Clarke with sloppy and tired movements, the red haired teen holds the button down and quickly replies, "loud and clear, your majesty." Unable to stop the relieved smile that spreads across her face, "how ya doing, handso – "

"Bellamy," Clarke's loud voice scolds, "you're late. Every three hours means every three hours."

"_Are you through?_" Bellamy grits out as Myles lightly smacks the blondes arm in exasperation.

"Ignore her," Myles pleads, levelling Clarke with a frustrated look. "She's just getting antsy. Have you found the source of the fog?"

"_No_," the Blake brother answers, his voice rough. "_That's gonna have to wait_."

"What?" Clarke instantly reacts, and Myles and Raven look at each other in confusion as the blonde patronises Bellamy. "No. Nothing is more important than that."

"_Our friends are_," Bellamy responds darkly, and Myles' heart drops.

"Is everyone okay?" The red haired teen rushes out, feeling her left arm jitter subconsciously.

"_They've started taking them from the dorm…_" her boyfriend informs them, and Myles freezes. "_One at a time, every few hours_."

"Taking them where?" Raven quizzes when Myles doesn't make any more moves to communicate with the Blake brother.

"_I don't know_," Bellamy quickly replies, "_we tried to follow them, but they went to a classified level_." Hazel eyes lock on Clarke's blue, both teens sharing the same horrified, knowing look. "_Maya borrowed the schematics of the vent system from her boss… and we're still trying to find a way in. Anything?_"

"_I think I found a path_," a young woman's, Maya's, voice comes over the radio, her tone shaky and unsure. "_But it's gonna be tight. Here's the walkie Raven asked for and the earbud_."

"That's genius," Myles praises, whipping her head to meet Ravens brown eyes, "make him mobile so we can annoy him anywhere he goes."

"Bellamy," Clarke starts, her anxious tone pleading, "you have to find them."

"_That's the plan_," the Blake brother affirms, and Myles heaves a heavy sigh.

"If you don't," the blonde continues pessimistically, "all of this is for nothing."

"Wow," the red haired teen huffs sarcastically, "no pressure. You got this, handsome. Stay safe."

"_You, too, Aggie_," her boyfriend answers, a smile in his voice.

Myles lets go of the button, and turns to the other two teens, addressing Clarke, "we have to go." At the blondes perplexed expression, the redhead elaborates, pushing away from the table, "to find Marcus. See if he can go to Tondc for us."

"We'll be right back," Clarke promises Raven, jogging after Myles as she storms out of Engineering.

Ryder and Vero are patiently waiting for the two girls when they burst through the doorway and into the hall. The two warriors match their purposeful strides easily, sticking close to them silently on their journey. It takes mere moments to reach H Corridor, finding Marcus exactly where he was the last time Myles saw him, which was hours ago.

"Our plans have changed," the redhead announces once the door to the councillors chambers whooshes open, and both girls march into the room readily with their bodyguards behind them. "We're staying here."

"Commanders expecting you both," Marcus reminds them, eyeing them curiously while he rolls up a large map.

"Our people inside Mount Weather are in trouble," Clarke agrees, flicking her eyes to her red haired friend. "We're not going till we know they're okay."

"And what can you do for them from here?" Marcus queries, looking at them both expectantly.

"Bell needs to use the vents," Myles quickly explains, "to get to the controls for the acid fog and keep an eye on our friends. I'm the only one here who has that kind of expertise."

"You'll go to Tondc in our place," the blonde haired teen informs the councillor. "Lexa respects you."

"We'll get there as soon as we can," Myles finishes, spinning on her heels and moving to walk back to the door.

"Aggie, wait," Marcus stops her, reaching out and grabbing her arm gently with the hand that's not holding the map.

Both warriors tense, Vero pulling out a large dagger and Ryder brandishing a machete. Hazel and blue eyes widen in shock, spinning to look back at the men.

"Put it away," Clarke orders, levelling them both with hard stares.

Hesitantly, the two warriors comply, watching Marcus suspiciously.

"Clarke, Aggie," the councillor begins softly, and Myles recognises this voice. It's the voice Marcus uses when he's trying to teach a lesson, a caring and low tone meant to give the recipient some of his wisdom. "Being a good leader means knowing which battles to fight."

"And which to delegate," Myles finishes in a quick breath, "that's what we're doing right now."

"Please," Clarke begs in a low whisper, "we need you to go to Tondc."

Marcus' brown eyes stay on Myles' hazel for a moment, his soft expression sitting deeper in his face, "fine." The councillors hand rubs up and down Myles' arm, "I'll go."

"Thank you," the red haired teen breathes, reaching her hand up to squeeze Marcus' as the door behind them whooshes open.

Pulling away, both teens turn to head out of the door with their two bodyguards close to them, and the sight of Abby Griffin walking into the room makes Clarke's steps falter, but not stop. The Chancellor immediately picks up on the two girls posture and her own steps slow to a stop.

"What is it?" Abby asks slowly, her sharp tone impatient as her calculating eyes sweep over the teens.

"Kane will explain," the blonde supplies, continuing to follow her red haired friend out of the room.

"Perhaps your mother should go," Marcus' loud voice declares, and Myles stops when Clarke whips around. The blonde takes a few steps back into the room, "she is still the Chancellor, after all."

"Which is why she's needed here," Myles counters, turning to continue marching back to Engineering without seeing if Clarke is following.

After a few short moments, Ryder and Clarke's footsteps jog up to the redhead and Vero. When the blonde settles into the same pace as Myles, the redhead turns her hazel eyes to look at her.

"At least things are moving now," the red haired teen huffs, "I fucking hate when nothing's happening."

"Maybe you should go to Tondc after all," Clarke shakes her head, her tone light and airy.

Snorting obnoxiously, the sound bounces back at her with their echoing footsteps when Myles replies, "and miss all the adventure? How boring."

"Okay," Raven's restless voice breathes into the radio. Myles is pacing in front of the maps of Mount Weather as Clarke and the mechanic hover over the radio, "so tell us where you're at now."

"_I'm at an intersection_," Bellamy Blake's deep voice rumbles through the device. Hazel eyes are sparkling while they look at the hastily scrawled schematics, a bright smile across her face, "_which way?_"

"You're close, Bell," Myles answers straight away, knowing exactly where he is on the map. "The lab is just up ahead."

"_Any chance you can be more specific?_" Her boyfriend asks, and red eyebrows twitch together in confusion.

Stopping her halfhearted pacing, the red haired teen thinks it through, "he just passed the air filtration system on this floor." Myles gestures to the map, "that puts him right here. How many – " Myles cuts off as Clarke and Raven both tense at the sound of a drill buzzing crackles over the radio. A heavy pit of dread sits low in her stomach when she spins on her heels to look at their pale faces, her voice wobbling out weakly, "don't tell me you hear that, too."

"_I found it_," the Blake brother huffs over the drill, but petrified hazel are still locked on the two teens with her.

"Aggie," Clarke starts slowly, watching the redhead warily. The blondes hands fumble on the table without breaking eye contact, before grasping a pen and quickly approaching Myles. "I need you to be okay."

Shakily, Myles takes the pen and instantly starts clicking it over and over again, slowly turning back to face the map, trying to ward off the memories and reality of what that drill being _real_ means. Gradually, the drill gets louder and louder as Bellamy gets closer to the source of it. With each escalating second, overwhelming pain wrestles with blissful numbness, both all-consuming sensations battling for their grasp on the teen. Clicking the pen keeps a part of Myles' mind active, stuck in the present, and the redhead hopes it stays that way while the throes on panic threaten to pull her under.

"_Is Aggie okay?_" Bellamy enquires quietly, his loving voice fluttering over the menacing whir of the drill.

"No," Raven answers simply, watching the red haired teen stare at the schematics and click the pen. "I think she's about to pass out."

"Their tests on you worked," Clarke whispers after another moment of listening to the drill, and Myles twists her head to glance back at the blonde blankly. "Your bone marrow worked. They're not bleeding our friends, they're taking their bone marrow."

Raven's brown eyes widen in horror, snapping her head to look at Myles as she turns to face them fully. The drill stops, and not even a second later, so does the incessant clicking of the pen in Myles' hand. Hazel eyes slip closed as the stiff tension eases from her body slightly, and the redhead leans to the side to stand against the table.

"_You ready for the last treatment you'll ever need, lieutenant?_" A familiar woman's voice asks, and Myles' thumb frantically starts clicking the pen again.

Insanity washes over her body, the ice cold memories of Doctor Tsing flashing behind hazel eyes. Shooting away from the table, hazel eyes snap to lock on the two girls with her over her restless feet pacing around carelessly at a rapid pace. Her heart thumps loudly, meshing with her loud and erratic breaths while Myles fights to regain some form of control over her mind.

"_You have no idea_," a man replies, his voice sounding strikingly similar to Carl Emerson's. "_I've waited my whole life to breathe fresh air_."

"That's Emerson," Clarke whispers, watching Myles pace anxiously to escape the claws of a panic attack.

"_Let's get back to this secret army that she claims to have_," Cage pries, and Myles lifts her left hand to bang her hard splint against the top of her head.

"That's Cage," the red haired teen whispers wetly, her voice shaking as much as her hands are. "And Doctor Tsing. They did it. They did it. They did it."

"_She tell you anything that might help us find it?_" Cage questions as Raven steps up to Myles and grips her left arm to pull it away from her head.

"They did it," Myles repeats in a quick breath, staring her wide and desperate hazel eyes at Raven. Air wheezes weakly from her thirsty lungs, leaving her breathless and dizzy. "They did it. They did it. They did it."

"It's okay," the mechanic soothes, looking into the redheads eyes seriously while her hands try to steady the frantic teen. Another drill starts up and Myles lets out a panicked squeak and her knees give out, sending the panting red haired teen crashing to the metal floor. Ravens hands chase her down, her head turning to Clarke worriedly, "what do I do?"

"Hug her," Clarke replies, shifting on her feet nervously from above the radio. The brunettes hands stutter for a moment before wrapping around the shaking girls slender body. "Squeeze her tight, applying pressure can help soothe the nervous system."

It's not until Raven does as instructed that Myles can feel her own body jittering violently. Raven's tight hold of the red haired teen clears some of the fog from her mind, the familiar veil indicative of a shift between reality and memory that Myles hadn't even noticed engulf her. Wide hazel feel frozen on Clarke's knees, but the world around her feels vivid and _real_. Shaking hands remain pinned between the two teens bodies, the feeling of arms squeezing her tightly keeping her grounded and forcing her erratic breaths to calm slowly against the pressure.

"_Stop drilling, please_," Cage's irritated voice comes over the radio, and Myles flicks her eyes up to the radio.

The drilling ceases, quickly being replaced by Doctor Tsings voice, "_the window for extraction after death is incredibly short_."

Raven pulls away at the statement and a chilly weight sinks down from Myles' chest. Horrified hazel lock on Clarke's equally as perturbed blue, before meeting Raven's panicked glance. They're already killing their friends, doing exactly what they did to Myles until there's literally nothing left to keep them alive.

"_I only need a minute_," Cage answers shortly, his tone showing there's no room for discussion.

"_No, sir_," Emerson supplies, and red brows pull together in confusion. Myles can't remember what's been said, her foggy mind lagging around the details as it prioritises keeping her heart and breathing in check. Clicking her pen again, Emerson continues, "_nothing about the army_. _She did say they were coming for you_. _And that if we let her people go, she'll let our people live_."

"_Well_," Cage replies dryly, "_it's a little late for that_."

"_I'm sorry I failed, sir_," Emerson divulges after a short beat, "_that red bitch is quick. She knew we were there and watching them before we had our scopes up_."

"_No_," Cage refutes while Clarke and Raven look to the redhead with a mixture of shock and pride. She refuses to imagine what might've happened if she hadn't been so persistent, if she hadn't have been so alert, if Indra and Octavia weren't there. "_It's okay. I've seen what she's capable of. We'll finish the job tonight_." Sitting up straighter at the man's words, Myles hangs onto every last syllable with the last shreds of her energy, "_Whitman just radioed in. Apparently there's a War Council meeting…_" panicked hazel lock on Clarke's eyes, "_happening tonight in one of their villages. All the leaders are gonna be there_."

Clambering to her feet, Ravens hands help her rush over to their blonde haired friend as Emerson responds, "_sir, I feel good. Let me take a team out, support Whitman_."

"_No_," Cage quickly refuses, and Myles holds her breath, "_he has less chance of being spotted if he's alone_."

"_Sir_," Emerson continues to badger, while the three teens look to each other anxiously. "_Whitman's good, but he can't take out a target like red alone_."

"_Which is why we're gonna use a missile_," Cage's staticky voice informs the guard. "_Take out as many birds with one stone as we can. We'll never have an opportunity like this again_." Myles lets out a breath of air in a quick huff, her foggy brain whirring into overdrive again as it tries to figure out their options. "_And this time we're not gonna miss_."

"We need to go," Myles breathes out in a rush, looking at Clarke determinedly. "Right now."

Bellamy's quick breaths stutter over the radio as he moves around and the blonde shakes her head, "What are we going to do?"

"Warn them!" The red haired teen exclaims, looking at Clarke in disbelief, "get Octavia out, Lexa, Marcus, as many as we can! Now, before their eyes are in place."

"_Please tell me you heard all that_," the Blake brother huffs over the radio, and Clarke holds up a finger to tell Myles to be quiet before pressing the transmit button.

"We heard it," the blonde confirms in a rough voice, watching as Myles spins away with her arms thrown over her head in exasperation.

"Myles is right," Raven agrees, and the redhead spins back around to face them. "We have to warn them."

"Did Uncle Marcus take a radio?" Myles quizzes urgently, stepping up close to the mechanic.

"No," the brunette denies, her tone sounding as frantic as Myles feels. "This is the only unjammed frequency. We have to keep it open for Bellamy."

"Clarke," the red haired teen says in a hard voice, looking the blonde in her eyes. "If we leave now, we'll make it in time. Move your ass."

"In time to be blown up, you mean," Raven frets and Myles throws her hands up in the air, storming past the two teens.

"Fine," Myles huffs, walking to the door, "not _we_, me. I'll make it."

"Aggie, I'm coming with you," Clarke calls and Myles digs her heels in, bouncing on the spot impatiently. Hot, sour adrenaline pumps through the redheads veins, electrifying her body and making her feel alive. "When we get back, I wanna know our friends are safe and the acid fog is down. Can you handle that?"

"_As long as you bring my girlfriend back in one piece_," Bellamy bargains, and Raven nods halfheartedly.

"Yeah," the mechanic agrees, "we can handle it. Go."

"_Wait_," the Blake brothers voice interjects when Clarke starts to turn to Myles. "_Octavia was in Tondc when I left_," white hot pain squeezes Myles' heart, and the redhead takes a subconscious step towards the radio. "_Is she…_"

"She's here," Clarke quickly lies, lifting her hand up to tell Myles to wait. Red eyebrows draw together, unable to tell if the pit in her stomach is from the _lie_ or the _truth_. "She's safe."

"_Okay_," Bellamy breathes in relief, and Raven matches Myles' pointed expression as she looks at Clarke. "_Good. You two be safe, too. Make sure Aggie makes it back_."

"Will do," the blonde promises, and Raven speaks up the second Clarke's finger leaves the transmit button.

"Octavia's in Tondc for the meeting," the mechanic accuses, "why did you lie?"

"She doesn't want Bell distracted," Myles answers impatiently. "Come on, if I'm going to let you lie to my boyfriend, it's not going to be for nothing. Hurry up."

"Hey," Raven calls loudly when the red haired teen turns away to stride out of the room again. Myles barely twists to look back into the room before Raven rushes up to her and hugs her tightly. Quickly reciprocating the gesture, Myles squeezes Raven tightly before the mechanic pulls away to hug Clarke as well. Stepping back from the two teens, Raven switches her brown gaze between them. "Don't get blown up."

"Rodger that," the redhead replies as Clarke nods, and both girls spin on their heels to hastily leave the room.

Ryder and Vero straighten the second they pass through the doorframe and into the hallway, and the two warriors quickly keep in step behind them. Myles barely spares them a glance, but Clarke tosses an order over their shoulders to them.

"Get the horses ready to leave," the blonde informs them, "we're leaving for Tondc right now. We want to get there before the meeting starts."

"Yes, ma'am," the chorused response echoes behind them before the two men jog in front to rush to the horses.

Myles starts to hasten her pace to keep up with their bodyguards, but Clarke's hand on her arm slows her down. Once the two warriors are out of sight and the two teens are left to stride through Alpha's hallways alone with their repeating footsteps, the blonde turns to Myles seriously.

"When we get there – " Clarke starts, but Myles' sure voice interrupts her.

"We keep out of sight from the spotter," the redhead finishes, the familiar buzz of adrenaline pumping in her veins. "Get everyone evacuated."

"I was gonna say," the blonde haired teen corrects slowly, "don't say anything until we talk to Lexa."

"Clarke," Myles utters in shock, snapping her head to her friend in disbelief. "If you're asking me to not warn – "

"Of course not," Clarke refutes, sounding offended at the implication. "But causing mass-panic won't help anyone. They'll be watching, and we need to know how to get everyone out safely. The commander will know what to do."

"I hope so," the red haired teen mutters pessimistically, looking back to the world in front of her as they slip through a door to set their boots on the dirt. Speeding up her pace slightly when hazel eyes land on their two bodyguards with the four horses, "because I'm drowning in blood, I can't handle any more."

Four horses pound their hooves on the ground, galloping over dead leaves hurriedly under the late afternoon sun. In the corners of her bouncing vision, Myles can see Clarke and their two bodyguards maintaining the same hasty pace. Small plumes of smoke alert the group of Tondc's fast approach, but the sight of the village does little to lift the heavy weight off of the redheads chest. The horses huff and neigh under them, tiring from the frantic journey and their lively noises must warn the grounders of their arrival. Two grounders with their weapons drawn greet them the second they slip through the gap in the bushes to enter Tondc, standing on alert.

The group don't slow down until they're feet away from the awaiting grounders, and Octavia jogs up to the two teens when they hurriedly slide down from their steeds. Blue eyes lock on hazel fleetingly before Myles rushes up to the Blake sister. Relief flashes over Octavia's face, seeming unshakeable despite the pale and dreary looks plaguing the other two Arkers faces.

"Hey," Octavia greets brightly, and Myles quickly grips the dark brown haired girls arm, pulling her forward. "You made it."

"We need you to take us to Lexa," Clarke informs quickly, not slowing in her strides into the village.

"And then we need you on watch," Myles adds, matching Clarke's pace with Octavia by her side. "Keep an eye we can trust on the outside of Tondc."

"What's wrong?" Octavia's worried voice asks, her fingers clasping around the hand on her arm.

The question makes both Myles and Clarke falter in their hurried steps, but the blonde replies quickly, "nothing."

"The mountain men know," Myles relays quietly when they start up their fast pace again, ignoring Clarke's sharp look. Guilt slowly scratches away at her insides, "about the meeting. We're worried they're gonna try something."

"Okay," Octavia accepts, confusion clouding her features, "we figured that already. Is Bellamy ready? Did he get the acid fog down?"

"He's working on it," Clarke vaguely supplies, her voice barely being heard over the chatter of the grounders they walk past and the mashing of swords in preparation for a battle.

Myles' left arm jitters as a familiar itch at the back of her mind alerts her of trouble brewing. Fighting the urge to snap her head around and search out the prying eyes, the redhead removes her hand from Octavia's arm to grip Clarke's instead. Squeezing a couple of times to get her attention, the blonde turns her anxious blue eyes to lock on hard hazel and the look on Myles' face makes her straighten. Hazel eyes land on Lexa before Clarke's blue do, and the red haired teen swiftly pulls Clarke forward as she speeds up.

"Clarke and Myles of the sky people have honoured us with their presence," Lexa declares, watching the two girls hurriedly approaching.

"I'm sorry we're late, Heda," Myles replies, her words coming out in a rush while the Arkers slow to a stop.

"You made good time," Marcus praises, stepping up behind the commander and Myles' heart clenches. The redhead tries to take a step forward to the councillor, but Clarke grips the hand on her arm to still her. Marcus' brown eyes shine with worry at the interaction, "I assume the kids in Mount Weather are okay."

"For now," the blonde haired teen dismisses breathlessly, turning her attention to Lexa. "Can we talk in private?"

Lexa's brown eyes jut to Myles' hazel in surprise at the request, before agreeing softly, "yes… This way."

Marcus furrows his eyebrows while he watches the teens and their two bodyguards follow closely behind Lexa, and Myles can't help the anxious glance she turns to give the councillor. The commander leads them to the dining hall, and when Myles slips through the door, she grips the handle to pull it shut before their guards can enter.

"Sorry," the redhead mutters to the two warriors, pulling the door shut with a click and swiftly hopping down the short flight of stairs.

"What is on your mind?" Lexa enquires once the red haired teen appears at the bottom of the stairs.

"There's a missile heading here," Myles rushes out breathlessly, coming to stand beside Clarke.

"Right now," the blonde agrees urgently, and the commanders brown eyes flicker as her eyebrows twitch.

"A missile?" The commander verifies, her hard tone matching the look in her eyes as they switch between them. "You're sure?"

"Yes," Clarke confirms, copying Lexa's hard tone, but Myles bounces on her feet nervously beside her friend.

"Look," Myles stresses, "we need to start evacuating right now, their spotter is already here and we're on borrowed time."

"No," the commander says simply after a moment, tilting her chin up while her calculating brown eyes watch their expressions shift.

"What do you mean, no, Lexa?" Clarke demands quickly, and Myles feels like she's going to throw up.

"No?!" Myles screeches, bending over as the word washes over her, spinning to pace the dining hall floor with her disbelieving eyes stuck on the commander. "This isn't a bullet, it's a big ka-fucking-boom!"

"If we evacuate," Lexa explains hurriedly, her stony eyes serious. "They'll know we have a spy inside their walls."

Clarke's face freezes, as if the commanders words make her response die on her tongue, but Myles refuses to accept it.

"No," the red haired teen denies, stopping her pacing to step close to Clarke and plead with the two of them. "No, not necessarily. Maybe there was an argument and we called it off, maybe we moved it to a neutral locatio – "

"We can't risk it," Lexa proclaims, turning away from the Arkers.

"No," Myles refuses, following the commanders steps urgently, her left arm shaking viciously.

"Aggie," Clarke's soft voice tries from her spot stuck in place, and the redhead spins around to pin her with an exasperated look.

"No," the red haired teen continues, "we have an inside man, what good is that if we can't act on the information he feeds us?"

"Is the acid fog disabled?" Lexa questions, coming to a stop and meeting the redheads desperate hazel eyes. The question makes Myles stop in her tracks, her face falling as she brings her arms to her head in distress, "is our sleeping army uncaged?" When the redhead doesn't answer, Lexa continues, "then Bellamy's job is not done. Without him, we can't win this war."

"I can't let these people die," Myles' hard voice announces, "I won't, not if I can help it."

"Aggie," Clarke tries again, stepping up to the red haired teen. "This is the only way to get to Mount Weather." Desperate tears glisten in hazel eyes, shaking her head in horror at her blonde haired friends words, "that's our plan, distract them to keep Bellamy safe."

"They're going to bomb us, Clarke," the red haired teen reminds her hotly, "I can't let these people die."

"It'll be a blow," the commander proclaims lowly, looking over the table strewn with lit candles with a downtrodden expression. "But our army will be safe inside the woods. And it will inspire them."

The horrified look on Myles' face doesn't shift, but Clarke inches forward, asking, "what about us? Where will we go?"

Turning around in utter disbelief, Myles hears Lexa's answer, "we slip away. Right now." Myles turns back to look at them as Lexa grabs a bundle of cloth from a pile on one of the chairs, "put this on." Lexa passes a chunk of fabric to Clarke, who readily accepts it and the commander turns to chuck one at Myles, "Myles. Your people need you. Put it on."

"No," the redhead denies, "these people need me. Here. I provoked Mount Weather." Lexa stops on her way to her throne, spinning around to look at the teens, "I sent a message to distract them from Bellamy. I can't let this happen."

"Myles," the commander starts strongly, her eyes locked on hazel as Clarke shifts on her feet beside them. "Sometimes you have to concede a battle to win a war."

"No," Myles refuses, shaking her head frantically. Her voice is more begging now, a lump climbing up her throat as her panic rises. "We can inform the leaders of the clans. Pick a new meeting point, hidden in the woods, each of them can slip away discreetly."

"And how many people do they tell?" Clarke questions lowly, wrapping her cloth around her head to hide her hair and face, "it'll be chaos."

"Where do we draw the line?" Lexa agrees with the blonde, and the bubbling anxiety starts to topple over the edges.

"Then cancel the meeting!" Myles snaps loudly, gesturing wildly as her eyebrows stay frozen high on her forehead. "I'll start a fire, or shoot a gun – something!"

"Aggie," her blonde haired friend pleads, "we're wasting time. You can't save everyone here, not today."

"No," the redhead begs, the lump sitting thickly in her throat, "no. I can't let them die."

"It's our only choice," the commander declares lowly, her brown gaze never wavering from Myles' hazel. "And you know it. You could have warned everyone out there, but you didn't. You said nothing," fear grips at the redheads chest tightly, making it harder to breathe, "not even to your own people. This is war, Myles. People die. You showed true strength today. Don't let emotions stop you now." Hazel eyes glisten with pleading tears, "it's time to go."

"I can't save everyone," Myles relents, her tone desperate as Lexa opens a discreet door in the back of the dining hall. "Please let me save just one."

Clarke's blue eyes flash with sadness, "Okay. Go get Marcus, and get out before the bomb hits."

Lifting up her lower back-length red ponytail to hide under the cloth she yanks over her hair and wraps around her head, the redhead takes the steps two at a time to follow closely behind the commander. The sun has started to set quickly in the winter air while the three of them were arguing about what to do, and the fact only unsettles Myles more, knowing that the darkness quickly falling over them won't help anyone here. Lexa wraps her cloth around her head as she slips out of the back door and into the thick tree line behind Tondc. Myles instantly starts to split off from the two of them to sneak around to Marcus when a hand on her arm halts her.

Hazel eyes are mildly surprised to find Lexa stopping her instead of Clarke, "be quick, Myles of the sky people. Our people need you and your courage."

"See you on the other side," the redhead replies quietly, slipping away from the commanders hand. Quickly weaving around the trees, it doesn't take long to find Marcus hovering near the dining hall, alone. Fiddling with the covering over her head for a short second, the red haired teen darts out and touches Marcus' arm gently to get his attention once she reaches him.

"Hey," the councillor greets, his dark brown eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "What are you wearing?"

"You need to go," Myles informs him slowly, her hazel eyes serious as her good hand tugs the man away slightly.

"What?" Marcus asks, the confused expression deepening. "What's going on?"

"You need to go," the redhead repeats, pushing the councillor towards the tree line. "Run away from Tondc as fast as you can."

"Aggie," Marcus tries lowly, stepping back towards the red haired teen and ignoring the hands desperately pushing him away. "What's happening?"

"Go," Myles begs quietly, shoving Marcus roughly. "Go, or you'll die here with me."

The words seem to connect the dots in the councillors mind, and he reaches for Myles to yank her with him, "then we'll both go."

"No," the red haired teen refuses, pulling her arm back harshly. "Uncle Marcus, I'm begging you. Run."

"Whatever's happening," the councillor starts, grabbing her arm and pulling her again. "If I'm leaving, you're leaving."

"You don't understand," Myles whispers, shaking her head desperately for the man to understand. "You need to go. You need to live. I need to – "

"Aggie, listen to me," Marcus cuts her off, holding her shoulders tightly. "My job is to take care of you. If I'm leaving, you're leaving."

Allowing herself to be tugged along by Marcus' urgent hands, the redhead steps over the Earth lazily, relying solely on the councillor to guide her. Looking back, hazel eyes scan the grounders and Arkers peacefully mulling about the village and talking pleasantly with each other. Laughter echoes with the sound of leaves crunching beneath their feet, smiles shine as bright as the moonlight raining down on them and the cold air feels light and kind despite the tight grip Marcus has around her shoulders.

Myles hears it before she sees it. A loud rumble stuttering through the darkening sky followed by a bright orange fire. Her stomach barely has time to drop before the missile makes impact on the unsuspecting village that's slowly getting farther and farther away from her and Marcus. Hazel eyes can't bear to turn away when the blinding flash and thick wave of blistering heat crashes into them, knocking them off of their feet in a mighty gust of hot air. Both Myles and Marcus' bodies are swept up in the harsh blast, tearing them apart and throwing them to the ground roughly. The bright flash of the missiles impact still stutters through hazel eyes, blinding her vision with blackness.

Piercing ringing in her ears is the first thing Myles notices when her senses start coming back to her, following by the thick haze of smoke tilting and swaying in her eyes. Hazel eyes blink through the burning mist, her vision taking a moment to stop repeating the flash and allowing her to focus on the brief glimpses of the carnage above the dirt under her face, everything appearing blurry and distant through the heavy smoke. Myles sees, rather than feels, her body sit up, her vision echoing dizzily as her head swings up. Orange fire burns trees and the parts of the village the redhead can still see, the hot flames flickering over the bodies of people lying still on the ground not far in front of her. A woman runs around, her blistering and burnt arms flailing desperately as fire still licks at her skin. Her mouth is held wide open, but Myles can't hear her pained screams over the shrill tone in her ears.

The scene stutters strangely, as if someone's shaking the world in a random and uneven pattern. Something flutters deeply in her chest, her blurry eyes scanning frantically over the devastation. Marcus scoots across the ground beside her to sit in front of her, obstructing her view of the horrific event with his ash and soot covered face. His mouth moves, but Myles can't hear his words over the high-pitched ringing in her ears. Marcus' hands come up to rest heavily on her shoulders as his mouth continues to move, his dark brown eyebrows furrowed worriedly at the girl before sliding his hands up closer to her face.

It's only then that she notices her mouth is wide open. Myles can feel the councillors hands sitting between her shoulders and her face, touching the skin stretched from holding her mouth open. Distant sobbing reaches her ears over the deafening haze plaguing her hearing, awful, gut-wrenching sobs that line up with her stuttering blurry vision.

"It's okay," Marcus' muffled voice rumbles vaguely, and the ugly sobbing starts to sound closer. "It's okay. It's okay."

Marcus no longer sounds garbled and far away, but clear and close. The sobbing is coming from her, her face feels wet as her chest and gut constrict painfully with each loud wail. People scream piercingly around them, their pained noises battling with the loud crackling of fire. Smoke and burnt flesh hang heavily in the air, clogging her nose when she finally takes a greedy gulp of thick, hot air in before choking as she cries loudly.

"It's okay," the councillor tries to soothe, his face and hair lightly brushed with pale ash. "We're okay."

"He was right," Myles sobs pitifully, tears pouring from her blurry hazel eyes. "Oh god, he was right."

"Who was?" Marcus asks, and the redhead shakes her head as she cries. "Aggie, who was right?"

"Dad," the redhead squeaks out around ugly sobs, "I don't just kill everything near me, I destroy it. I destroy it."

"No, listen to me," the councillor urges, sliding his hands up a bit more to hold the red haired teens head still when she looks away. "Aggie, you do not kill or destroy anything near you, you're the one who brings life to it." Myles shakes her head sadly, sobs continuing to wrack her body, "Aggie, you're one of the good guys."

"No," Myles shudders out through her tears. "I never was. I – I – "

"I know," Marcus nods understandingly, "I know. But you helped so many people on the Ark."

"Stole," the redhead squeals through a sob. "I stole. I've killed people."

"You helped people," the councillor promises, "you were one of the good guys when no one else knew how to be one."

"I wish you just floated me," Myles sobs, her chest pleading for air as she cries. "So many people would still be alive if I wasn't here."

"No," Marcus refuses desperately, his hands shifting against her skin while he pleads with her. "Don't you dare talk like that. You kept those kids alive. You hunted, fed them all, put tents over their heads, got them supplies. You were the only one who was able to _talk_ with the grounders."

"I killed them," the redhead squeaks, heaving heavy breaths as tears continue to pour down her face. "I knew and I didn't tell them."

"You couldn't have gotten them out," the councillor assures strongly, his brown eyes staring into hazel. "Sometimes the good guys need to make bad decisions, but it's okay. It'll be okay."

"It doesn't feel like it," Myles sobs loudly, her whole body jolting with the force.

"I know," Marcus nods, rubbing his thumbs slightly against her face, but not letting her go.

Myles wraps her arms around herself tightly, uncontrollable squeaks belting out of her sobbing lips, "it hurts so bad, I just want it to stop." Marcus pulls her tightly to his chest, cradling the back of her head with one hand and wrapping his other around her back. "How do I make it stop?"

"I wish I knew," the councillor whispers, holding Myles tightly as she sobs. "I'm so sorry."


	14. Chapter 13 - Resurrection

A man screams loudly, stumbling out of a house completely engulfed in flames. His feet drag frantically over the dead and barely alive people burning on the ground, bright, hot flames dancing around their bodies mercilessly. One of the mans arms hangs limply by his side, blood slathered broken bones bursting from his tattered clothes as his other arm desperately swipes at the fire licking at his crippled body. The mans once pale skin is blackened with ash and soot, scorched and covered in painful looking bloody, blistering welts from the intense heat around them.

Wide hazel eyes jump from his screaming form to the others screaming around him as her slow and detached steps sluggishly pull her closer to the chaos. Myles wanders around the fiery wreckage alone and in a daze, taking in the absolute devastation of Mount Weathers missile attack. People run around aimlessly, some bolting for the fire cloaked trees in an attempt to abandon the blazing remains of Tondc, while others despairingly try to help others. Handmade structures covered in the bright orange haze start to collapse, falling noisily to the ground as fire crackles loudly and people shriek all around the red haired teen.

Everything sounds and feels muffled to Myles, as if she's under water. She barely feels the mighty heat of the fiery village, too consumed with the image of the innocent people burning mere feet from her. Large chunks of ash falls on everything, the flecks burning as bright and hot as the flames they escaped from. Small holes bore into Myles' clothes from the hot ash, stinging her face, neck and hands when they touch her skin.

Turning her head blankly to look at a woman being dragged into the tree line, Myles' footsteps falter and begin to walk slowly in her direction. The woman's skin is covered in melted boils, and the man trying helplessly to drag her away from the flames has a young child wailing in his arms. Fast movement flickers in the corner of hazel eyes, and the redhead turns her head dizzily to look at it.

A white horse barrels towards her, it's mane and tail ablaze with bright orange flames. Large bleeding grazes litter the scorched animals body, and it screeches and neighs loudly as it tramples over the hot dirt in a feeble attempt to rid itself of the fire sticking to its hair. Myles can't help watching the animal go, but her horrified eyes are quickly drawn from its rapidly retreating figure.

The horse almost knocks over a woman in a light blue coat when it flees down the path, leaving the distraught lady stumbling. Tan skin is blackened by ash, completely disguising her features, but her wide and terrorised eyes snap over the devastation. Her brown eyes land on Myles and the woman opens her mouth shakily in a silent plea for help, but it's not until the woman trips over her unsteady feet and steps closer to her that the redhead sees that her left forearm is missing. A severed and charred forearm with a light blue sleeve still covering the wrist is clutched tightly in her right hand.

She stumbles for a few seconds, and Myles' feet head to her subconsciously, her hazel gaze glued to her frightened and traumatised eyes. Her dizzy stumbling comes to a sudden end when the woman trips and falls to the dirt, the severed hand still held tightly in her grip. Fear pricks at Myles' heart when the woman doesn't move an inch once she's hit the ground and the red haired teens steps hasten slightly as her ears ring. Something else mingles with the muffled screams floating through the air, but Myles doesn't stop her boots from clumsily shuffling across the dirt until hands grab at her and twist her around.

Clarke stands in front of her, the blondes hands holding her shoulders and shaking her to get her attention. Her blue eyes are wide and glistening with tears, the reality of the decision they've made not lost on either of them. Clarke's mouth is moving, but hazel eyes switch over to the commander standing silently over her shoulder, her wide brown eyes staring at the redhead in mild concern.

"Aggie," Clarke pleads, her voice thick with emotion as it echoes through Myles' dazed mind. "Look at me."

"I could've warned them," the red haired teen mutters, her eyebrows pulling together in despair.

"We need to go," the blonde tells her shakily, her hands tugging urgently at the cloth sitting on Myles' shoulders, pulling it up to cover her head again.

"I could have saved them," Myles continues quietly, feeling tears bubble up in her hazel eyes while she tries to stumble back and away from Clarke's hands.

"If they see us," Lexa urges strongly, her face void of the heavy emotion clouding over the two Arkers. "They'll strike again."

"Where's Kane?" Clarke asks in a weak voice, her hands not letting the distraught redhead step away.

"Helping," Myles whispers, tearing her hazel eyes away from her two friends to look over the destruction. Her feet try to step away from Clarke's hands again, "I should – I should be helping survivors, too."

"Myles," the commanders hard voice rumbles out authoritatively, stepping closer to the redhead to help hold her still. Devastated hazel lock on the young woman's stern brown eyes, "victory stands on the back of sacrifice. You know that."

"I need to help them," the red haired teen whimpers out weakly, her eyes begging Lexa to understand. "I need to. It's my _job_."

"…_you do your job," Raven demands, her tone bitter and her eyes hard as she stands in front of the red haired teen in Engineering._

"_What is my job?" Myles grits out, her tone weaker than the brunettes. _

"_You save everyone!" Raven shouts back at her, throwing one of her arms up._

"That's what she did on the Ark, and down here," Clarke explains softly when the commander furrows her eyebrows in confusion, shaking her head slightly at the redhead. "She's always saved everyone."

"If you don't leave with us," Lexa starts slowly, her hard eyes stuck on Myles'. "They will strike again, and there won't be any survivors to save." Hazel eyes become blurry with tears again, Myles' whole body sagging in defeat under her two friends' hands. "Your people need you. You can't save everyone if you're dead."

Flicking her hazel eyes over the burning wreckage, a new fire alights in the red haired girls heart. Turning her hardening gaze back to the two girls in front of her, Myles' posture begins to straighten and her resolve strengthens.

"I want them all dead," Myles declares in a hard and detached tone, her tired and blank eyes switching between her two friends. "I want all of the Mountain Men dead."

Clarke blinks in shock, but Lexa nods, her expression loosening with relief before she turns to stalk into the trees. Myles and Clarke follow with hasty steps, the blondes shock quickly dissolving into an eerily calm determination within seconds of starting their purposeful strides. Shouting and wailing screams out from the village as they walk into the woods, leaving the scorching heat behind them. Dread and remorse sits heavily in Myles' bones as she goes against her every instinct to turn around and help them, but Lexa and Clarke are right.

What good can she do for them now? What good can she do for her friends in Mount Weather if she doesn't leave now?

Myles is torn abruptly from her quiet thoughts when a loud cracking sound splinters through the cold night air. Stopping and whipping her head around to look towards the distant fiery village through the pitch black night, the red haired teen recognises that sound instantly.

It's a gunshot. But it's not _any_ gunshot, it's the loud bang of a sniper rifle.

"Sniper," Myles mumbles when Lexa and Clarke both stop as well. More shots ring out, each within a few seconds of one another, and the redhead recalls the conversation they overheard on the radio. Snapping her hazel eyes to Clarke's wide blue, the redhead shifts her fast pace to head back the way they came. "The spotter."

"He aimed the missile," Clarke confirms, following Myles' frantic steps to find him. "He's alone."

"Clarke, Myles," the commander calls, reaching for them and pulling Clarke to a stop behind Myles. "Just slow down," one of the blondes hands shoots out to grip Myles' arm and jerk her to a halt. "If he's a spotter, he's here to make sure we're dead." Lexa's hard eyes implore the two teens, "If he tells the mountain we're alive – "

"He won't," Clarke reassures, her tone sure and sharp.

"How can you be sure?" Lexa quizzes immediately, and blue eyes turn to Myles a second before she yanks herself from the blondes hand.

"Because he's already dead," Myles proclaims, twisting away from her two friends and hurrying back through the dark woods. "I'm going to kill him."

_What's a little more blood?_

It's silent for a moment behind Myles, only the distant sound of gunfire and her own quiet, quick breaths echoing in the still forest. Clarke and Lexa's steps jog up to her, sticking close to her side as she weaves through the trees and slides across the icy grass. The hasty venture back is silent, none of the girls saying anything until the shouts from Tondc and the gunshots start to become clearer.

"How will we find him?" Lexa enquires quietly when they stop walking towards the village, and start walking around it.

"The gun he has," Myles grunts out lowly through her swift movements. "It's a long range weapon. Last time, they were about this far out. He'll be down low, either crouched or lying on the ground. We might get lucky and see a flash or see the moonlight reflecting off the scope."

"We'll find him," Clarke promises, keeping close to Myles.

"If he's near us," the redhead continues in a low tone, "he won't be able to see us. If he's on the other side, he'll be able to see our movement, so don't disrupt anything. Blend in."

Gunshots thunder through the air, but the moonlight and the flames erupting from Tondc are the only lights shining in the otherwise still winter night.

Their determined steps continue wandering through the forest, with only the pale moonlight illuminating their winding path. The slow and persistent gunshots still echo through the cold night air, blasting over the top of the distant yelling in Tondc and the three girls' boots sliding on the icy grass as they scale a steep incline. Myles' blood simmers with stubbornness, her purposeful resolve to not give up keeps her tired and aching joints alive and insistent.

"It'll be light soon," Lexa mutters quietly, matching the red haired teens pace. "We won't have the darkness to hide us."

"Neither will he," Clarke maintains, trampling over the darkness cloaked bushland.

"I feel your anger," the commander assures the two Arkers after a moment, and Myles can't help rolling her eyes dramatically.

"You know," the red haired teen expresses bluntly without slowing or looking over her shoulder at the young woman. "I appreciate it, but I could use a break from all your wisdom, Yoda."

"Yoda?" Lexa repeats in confusion as a gunshot cracks through the air.

"He's a teacher," Clarke dismisses quickly, "I agree, Lexa. No more lessons."

The commander huffs, before turning her attention back to Myles, "you need to focus." Tired hazel eyes fight not to roll obnoxiously again, instead red eyebrows twitch in exasperation. "We do what we must to survive. The enemy does the same. It's not personal."

"It is to me," the redhead rebukes, climbing over a large fallen tree that's surrounded by and propped up on some large boulders. Hopping down on the other side with a huff and marching on to continue scaling upwards, Myles tosses over her shoulder to the other two. "If it isn't personal, those deaths are worthless."

"You think killing the shooter will make you feel better," Lexa states knowingly as she hops down from the tree, "but it won't. The only thing that will do that is winning this war."

"Listen," Myles snaps, digging her heels in and spinning around to get in the commanders face. "I've done everything you've asked. I've given my friend up to be enslaved." Stepping closer to stand toe to toe with the young woman, "I didn't warn _our_ people. I'm going to make those deaths have meaning. If you aren't interested in that, you can go and gather that army and shove it up your pompous – !"

"That's enough!" Clarke hisses when Myles points angrily down at Tondc. Pushing the two apart, Lexa tilts her head up and smiles to herself, looking as if this outburst was the last piece of the puzzle to figuring out Myles. "We need to stop that shooter," the red haired teen turns away silently to continue on while her blonde friend talks, "or we're gonna have more blood on our hands."

Clarke and Lexa don't even take a step to follow Myles when movement flutters in the corners of her eyes and she comes to a sudden halt again. Yanking the gun that's tucked into her waistband out and pointing it in the direction of the disturbance, both girls behind the redhead bristle and inch closer to Myles. Leaves rustle metres away from them as a figure barrels through the dark woods and Myles lowers her gun and tucks it away when she sees him.

"Lilo?" Myles calls out in a whisper, stepping hastily towards the dark skinned man as he whips his head around to look at them.

Lincoln's steps are slow and cautious when they step towards the three girls, his face twisted up in confusion. The look on his face makes her steps falter and slow, the guilt coursing through her veins amplifying tenfold with every passing second.

"Myles?" Lincoln asks, his hoarse voice a strange blend between accusation and relief. Clarke and Lexa step towards the frozen redhead, "Clarke? Commander, wh – Octavia said you were – "

"Octavia?" Myles breathes in relief, her whole body sagging, "You've seen her? She's okay?"

"Yeah," the dark skinned man nods, his brown eyes flicking over the group. "She's fine. The few that survived the explosion are being pinned down by a sniper. It's why I'm here."

As if to emphasise his point, another gunshot thunders through the night sky. Myles whips her head around to where the sound seems to be echoing from, somewhere just across the hill from them and her boots shuffle forward subconsciously.

"That's who we're trying to find," the red haired teen explains, jogging past Lincoln and tugging lightly on his arm.

"Come on," the commander urges when he hesitates, running beside the redhead. "We have to get to higher ground."

Hearing Lexa say it stirs him into action, and he turns to follow the three girls closely.

Lexa was right. It hadn't taken long for the morning sun to make an appearance, it's bright glow illuminating the world before them. The four of them are getting restless, with still no eyes on Whitman and gunshots still blasting through the air, Myles can't help but _hate_ the fact that he has the upper hand. Knowing he's still terrorising the villagers only fuels her intense desire to find him and end what he's done here. Images of her friends and Bellamy flash through her mind, picturing them being tortured in the same way she was and dying in excruciating pain keeps her steps rapid and focussed.

Tondc is completely swallowed up by the forest now, only hints of an orange haze and a thick black plume of smoke indicating its position. Myles doesn't look back, not even as Lexa does and Clarke falters in her steps to check on her. Instead, the redhead stays crouched right beside Lincoln, sticking her head out and quickly dashing across sandy, brittle grass to duck behind more cover. They've found where the shots are coming from, their only trouble now is to reach the snipers position before he sees them, which would be a lot easier if they could only _see_ him.

Lexa and Clarke's footsteps join Lincoln and Myles' after another moment, and they continue to scale the sand covered land. Not a word has been said amongst them since Myles spotted the sniper, his close proximity calling for them to stay quiet. Her boots sink and slip down the sandy slope, but her steps are precise and swift. It feels like she's been doing this her whole life, as if she had always lived in the sand and knew how to traverse it quickly.

Poking her head around the boulder they're crouched behind, the red haired teen stills and she holds up two fingers to the three behind her. The gun's nozzle has shifted in its position perched on top of the decaying wooden ruins of a small building. Hazel eyes can't tell exactly, but it looks like it's facing more towards them than the village to their east. Squinting her eyes in a feeble attempt to try and see the man crouched behind the weapon, Myles barely has a second to duck back when she thinks she sees his right hand twitch.

Another loud gunshot blares through the air, and this time it was definitely aimed at them. All four of them shove their backs hard against the stone they're hiding behind, trying to escape the bullet as a hot, thick liquid cascades down Myles' face. Heavy panting breaths chorus from the four of them, and hard hazel eyes snap to lock on Lincoln's startled brown but his face freezes. Beside him, Clarke turns to them at the grounders tense posture and her face pales when her eyes land on the redhead. Lincoln lifts his hand to Myles' forehead, and it's not until his fingers graze her temple, just under the small hole from Doctor Tsing, that she feels the familiar searing sting of a bullet.

Pulling back his fingers, the dark skinned man holds his fingertips out for Myles to see the red colour of her hair coating them. A loud crack thunders through the air and the stone above their heads shatters, raining down on them as a bullet crashes into it. Pieces of stone splatter over the backs of their heads and shoulders, and Myles quickly turns her head away to take the few seconds she has while he reloads to peek her eyes around the boulder. Lexa huffs as an idea forms in the redheads mind, and hazel eyes turn back to Lincoln when another gunshot fires.

"So much for the element of surprise," the commander remarks bitterly and the redhead shifts against the boulder.

"I'll draw his fire," Myles suggests, already turning away from the group as Lincoln's hand wraps around her arm to stop her.

"Aggie!" Clarke exclaims in shock, horror clouding her and Lexa's features.

"No," Lincoln refuses, his face hard. "I'll do it."

"I'm already hit," the red haired teen reasons in exasperation, lifting the mans hand quickly to remind him of her blood slowly drying on his fingertips.

Using his distraction to her advantage, Myles yanks out her pistol and swings her arm around the boulder to shoot aimlessly at the sniper. Whitman fires back, but Myles doesn't flinch, continuing to fire and distract him as Lincoln runs around the other side of the large rock. The sniper ducks down suddenly, holding his fire, and the redhead slides back behind cover.

It's deathly silent now, the only sounds being the three girls harsh and rapid breaths. Pulling her clip down to see how many bullets she has left, her chest freezes to ice and hazel eyes flick to Clarke's wide and frantic blue.

"One left," Myles mutters breathlessly, twisting her head to keep her ears trained on the men on the other side of the boulder.

"You're the Ghost," Clarke pants, but Myles doesn't turn back to her. "You'll make it count."

Grunts sound, cutting off the red haired teens half-hearted reply and Myles takes this as her cue. Sneaking around the boulder, hazel eyes see Lincoln throw the shooter to the ground and she hurries forward. Lincoln lifts a dagger up high to slam it down into the mountain man when a shrill tone screeches through the air. Myles' footsteps halt as Clarke and Lexa inch around the boulder and Lincoln cowers away from the sniper, who quickly grabs his dagger.

Lifting her gun up as the tone stops, Myles points it at Whitman just as he yanks Lincoln to him and holds the grounders blade to his throat. Hard hazel eyes lock on the mountain man, his brown eyes and dirt covered face clearly visible without the mountain men's typical hazmat suits. Knowing this man has _Arker_ bone marrow in his body sends chills down Myles' spine and keeps her face blank. Lincoln struggles against the mountain man's hold, but it's no use, and the redhead can see drops of blood appearing as the blade scrapes at his throat.

"Drop your weapon," Whitman orders over Lincoln's grunts, and Clarke and Lexa stop behind the red haired teen.

"Just let him kill me," Lincoln grunts out gruffly, thrashing his arms hopelessly. "Then take him out." Myles doesn't do more than twitch her red eyebrows, thinking through her options. "Aggie, please. Your people need you."

"You," Myles declares strongly, feeling her splint-covered left hand shake at her side, "Are my people."

Not a second after the last syllable is out of her mouth, Myles pulls the trigger.

Blood spurts from Lincoln's shoulder, and both men shout in shock and pain. The mountain man's hold on Lincoln falls slack, allowing the grounder to fall to his knees. Whitman keeps his eyes locked on Myles' hazel, a deep red patch growing rapidly on the left side of his chest. Standing there for a moment, the sniper opens his mouth but only blood comes from his lips before he falls heavily to the ground in a heap.

Lincoln grunts in pain, lifting his hand to his shoulder and pulling back his bloody palm. The grounders dark brown eyes lock on Myles' hazel, and she finally lowers the gun. An almost proud expression twists over his pained face, talking through his rough, pained breaths.

"Good shot," the dark skinned man praises, and Clarke rushes forward to inspect his wound.

When Lincoln's eyes shift from hers, Myles looks back at Whitman's dead body. Her own breath puffs out in transparent white clouds in front of her face, dancing through the air and obscuring the man's body.

"Did that make you feel better?" Lexa asks dully, coming to a stop beside the red haired teen.

Tears fill hazel eyes, blurring the world as her weak voice admits, "no."

"Here," Lincoln grunts, passing a foghorn to Clarke. "Blow into that, let them know the sniper is down."

The sun has just set, allowing darkness to cover their part of the Earth again when the four of them reach Tondc. Arkers who weren't there before bustle about the land, helping pull survivors out and get them the medical attention they need. Lincoln rushes forward, coming to a stop in front of the large crater the missile left behind where the dining hall had once been and holds his hand to his shoulder as he looks down. His whole body relaxes, and then he's stumbling down and out of sight.

Clarke turns to lock her eyes on Myles' hazel, the tired expression being mirrored on both teens faces. Their hoods are gone, having been tossed aside on their way into the village, and the three girls come to a stop where Lincoln had been a moment ago. Octavia and Lincoln are entwined at the bottom of the crater surrounded by the rubble of the collapsed dining hall, but Myles' hazel eyes are quickly stuck on the men lifting a stretcher up and onto level ground. All of the air leaves her lungs in one desperate breath and her boots rush up to the stretcher as her heart stutters painfully.

Marcus is covered in blood, debris and dirt, looking pale and weak as he lay on a stretcher. A tourniquet is tied tightly around his right leg, thick blood coating his whole pant leg.

"Oh, my god," Myles shudders out, her shaking hands gripping the councillors arm tightly. "Oh, my god. What happened? Oh, my god."

"It's okay," Marcus breathes out weakly, his exhausted brown eyes watching the devastated redhead quickly keep up with the men carrying him. "The building fell, but I'm okay."

"No, you're not," the red haired teen refuses, shaking her head as hot tears pour down her cold face. "Oh, my god. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm s – "

"Shh, shh," the councillor insists, lifting his hand out of the red shock blanket draped over him to reach blindly for hers. Grounders start chanting 'Heda' around them, but the two Arkers are oblivious to them. "I'm okay. This wasn't your fault, it's okay."

"I killed him," Myles blubbers, crouching down when they lower Marcus' stretcher to the ground. "There was a sniper and I killed him."

"You did," Marcus breathes, trying to hold his droopy eyes open, "what you had to do. What you could. That's more than anyone here deserves from you."

"The dead will be avenged," Lexa's hard voice bellows, followed by an ear-splitting, loud cheer from the grounders around them.

Marcus rolls his head lazily, as if looking for the source of the voice before saying, "sounds like you're needed." Myles hesitates, the burning pain in her chest sitting heavily at the sight of the closest thing she has to a father withering away in front of her. She shakes her head, and he continues, "Go. Show them what the Ghost can do."

"I don't know if I want to anymore," Myles admits tearfully, rocking on her knees on the ground beside the councillor. Marcus' tired eyes flicker in confusion, "if I do, if I end this, stop Mount Weather – I – I can't come back."

"I know," Marcus acknowledges softly after a moment, his sad expression emphasised by the grit slathered over his face. Squeezing her hand weakly, "that's why I put him on Tesla."

"Until I know – " the red haired teen stumbles to explain, "until I know he's dead, I can't be here. I can't stay – I can't, I can't."

"That's okay," the councillor assures, squeezing her hand again as his eyes droop shut.

Lifting their connected hands up to her face, "I have to go now. You need help and I have to go."

"I know," Marcus mumbles, "I'm okay. You go. Be the good guy and save the kids."

"Lexa, Clarke and I battle Mount Weather tomorrow," Myles informs him quietly, as soft drops of cold rain start spitting down on them. "I'll end this."

"Good girl," Marcus smiles, huffing quietly and the redhead kisses the back of his hand before letting it go.

Tucking his hand under the blanket, Myles stands and leaves the men and Abby fussing over him to do their jobs in peace. Clarke stands not far behind them, watching the two of them and the red haired teen wipes her face before stepping up to her. Sniffing the last of her tears away, Myles swallows before meeting Clarke's soft eyes.

"He'll be okay," Clarke promises, her tone confident and kind.

Myles nods distractedly, lifting her good hand to grasp the heart-shaped locked around her neck, "yeah." Glancing her exhausted hazel eyes around the burning ruins of Tondc through the light rain, the red haired teen tilts her head, "You ready?"

"For Mount Weather?" Clarke asks, and Myles nods slowly again, her eyes stopping on Lincoln and Octavia talking with Indra to their left. "As ready as I'll ever be. You?"

"Let's bring them home," the redhead proclaims, meeting the blondes blue eyes.

Octavia and Lincoln turn away from Indra and start to walk away. Myles' eyes switch back to them, and she slowly inches forward, watching as Lincoln turns back to Indra. Clarke's footsteps crunch behind her, and Octavia's deep brown eyes snap up to them and soften, coming to a stop beside them. In the corner of hazel eyes, Myles sees Indra pull Lincoln in for a hug and the redhead can't stop herself from whipping her head to them in shock.

The two teens with her follow her gaze, and still in surprise. Smiling slightly, Myles looks back at Octavia and the Blake sibling meets her eyes. Those deep brown eyes make Myles' heart clench painfully, sending thoughts of Bellamy fluttering through her mind.

"I thought you were dead," the Blake sister divulges, tensing her jaw and switching her gaze between the two girls. Lifting a hand and grasping Myles arm, Octavia continues, "I'm glad you're not."

"You, too," Clarke replies, and Myles lifts her good hand to wrap over the Blake siblings.

"Thank god you're okay," the redhead breathes, shaking her head. "It would've killed me if you weren't."

Octavia nods, a small smile softening her face as she squeezes Myles' hand. Pulling away, Octavia walks towards Lincoln and Indra, and both Clarke and Myles release a long breath in relief. Turning to each other, Myles lifts her good hand up and Clarke huffs sarcastically before gripping it with her hand. Turning away, both Arkers start walking to find Lexa when Abby steps away from Marcus in front of them, and the mother and daughters steps both falter.

Stopping as well, Myles turns back to Clarke, but the blonde doesn't move forward, a tense look on her face. Abby walks up to them, covered in dirt and rubble with blood smeared over her clothes and pale skin. When the doctor stops in front of them and still neither one says anything, Myles bounces on her heels.

"What's the damage?" Myles enquires eventually, when the air starts to feel so thick that it's suffocating her. "With Marcus?"

"He'll live," Abby provides, her eyes softening at the question. Both teens nod slowly, and Clarke opens and closes her mouth, but doesn't say anything. The woman shifts her gaze to her daughter, "We could really use your help."

"I can't," Clarke refuses, shaking her head and pursing her lips. "We're leaving."

At her mother's shocked face, the redhead continues for her, "we've arranged for a caravan to take you and the other wounded to Camp Jaha."

"Clarke, Myles," Abby presses, her tone hard and her face twisting in distress.

"The sniper wasn't wearing a hazmat suit," Clarke explains, lifting her arms slightly only to drop them back down.

Realisation dawns on Abby's face, and her eyes switch between the two girls, "the marrow treatment works."

"They're going to kill them all," Myles finishes slowly, ignoring the violent shiver that runs through her left arm.

"All our friends," the blonde adds, scrunching up her face as she fights back tears.

"Then you better hurry," the doctor responds dryly, and hazel eyes lock on blue before both teens start to walk off.

Once they pass Abby, they're pulled to a stop and Myles turns around to see the doctor holding her daughters arm. Blue eyes slowly turn to hazel and Myles gets the hint, letting go of Clarke's hand to continue walking by herself. It doesn't take more than a few short moments to find Lexa, the young woman standing not far away from the Arkers and the redhead quickly approaches her. The commanders brown eyes lock on Myles when she gets near her, and her posture straightens.

"It's time," Myles announces, slowing to a stop and turning back to look at Clarke and her mother.


	15. Chapter 14 - Bodyguard Of Lies

The restless energy pumping through Myles' veins itches away at her anxious mind, keeping her left arm shaking and her limbs jittery as she stands inside of a tent. It's noisy around her, the few still awake chattering carelessly throughout the army's camp. Hundreds of fire-lit torches and fire pits weave around the closely standing tents, but the redheads hazel eyes are stuck on the maps and papers in front of her.

Slightly crumpled, large tan coloured sheets of paper with the delicate lines and talented scribblings of both Clarke and Myles sits spread out on a table almost as wide as the paper. Scraps of metal and rocks rest on top of the paper, transforming it into a crudely made three-dimensional map with their shadows flickering in the candle light. Hazel eyes jump nervously from the three small chunks of thin metal leant together in a pyramid to signify Mount Weather, to the short sticks representing the dam and then to the cluster of stones that show the army waiting directly under the crushed, dead, winter leaves that line where the acid fog reaches.

Uneasy thoughts ripple through Myles' mind, shifting around the miscellaneous bits of junk in her head as she fights with her tired and stressed brain to consider all of their options. Red eyebrows furrow together as her imagination runs wild, sucking in her bottom lip to bite down gently on the rosy flesh. Her head aches, a physical manifestation of her distress or a result of her lack of sleep, the redhead isn't sure, but it makes the feeling of frustration grow within her.

Several steps crunch over the ground outside, but it's not the aimless wanderings of the army around her. Flicking her hazel eyes up to the tent flap across the table from her, Myles can't help the hot flush of shock that courses through her body or the subconscious pause in the shaking of her bad arm at the sight of Ryder pulling the woven material aside to poke his head inside. Plans and scenarios continue to play through Myles' curious mind unceasingly, not allowing her to be too distracted by the warriors appearance. Red eyebrows don't move or twitch at all when the warrior straightens and holds the material up to unveil the dark night sky. Lexa walks in, her posture as faultless as always and her sharp eyes quickly take in the stressing red haired teen.

Looking back down at the maps, the commander nods at Ryder in the corner of Myles' eyes but the redheads attention is fully on the soft lines and letters across the overlapping papers.

"Myles," the young woman greets simply, taking a slow step towards the table. "You should be resting."

"I can't," the redhead mumbles, not even looking up at the commander. "I need to know the mountain, it's not sitting well in my gut."

"You know the mountain," Lexa assures, turning to sink down into a chair with a fur-skin blanket thrown over it in the corner of the tent. "We have been over the maps a dozen times since last night. You know all there is to know about the mountain."

It's true, since leaving Tondc, they've only become more vigilant in understanding the terrain, but so much is still unknown. Unknown isn't good; unknown means unpredictable. Mount weather having hostages and being unpredictable means they still have the upper-hand. Nothing good ever comes from the enemy having the upper-hand.

"No," Myles refuses distractedly, trying to replay through their plans and options over the lively sounds of the army outside. "There's always more to know."

Lexa tilts her chin up and leans back in her chair, "where's Clarke?"

"Sleeping," the red haired teen answers, flicking her hazel gaze around their maps.

"You should be, too," the commander urges in her dull, authoritative tone. Myles doesn't answer, seeing no point in going back and forth when they won't agree. "Have you eaten?"

Hazel eyes jut up fleetingly to meet her brown gaze as she shakes her head, "what if we're wrong?" Lexa raises a brown eyebrow tiredly, a silent encouragement to explain. "What if cutting the power doesn't disengage the locks?"

"Your people said it will," the commander reassures through an exhausted sigh.

"They might have a back up system," Myles frets, letting her wide hazel eyes stay locked on Lexa's brown for a moment. "Like a generator or – or a safety precaution that keeps the doors and airlocks locked in the case of an emergency."

"Then Bellamy shuts it off," Lexa declares steadily, standing from her seat. Heaving another heavy sigh, the young woman walks up to the table with slow steps. "You should rest, Myles."

An idea blossoms in Myles' mind, "we could blow the doors manually." Nodding to herself, the red haired teen ignores Lexa's calm demeanour to test the idea in her head. "Use gunpowder, or some hydrazine, or – or a grenade. Make it the back-up plan if killing their power doesn't open the doors."

"Plans don't last very long in battle," Lexa informs her, coming to a stop beside the teen. "Tiring yourself with questions already asked and answered is a waste of energy."

Myles doesn't know if this is supposed to be another lesson, but the sureness in the commanders voice sends a short pang of anger through her heart. Lifting her hazel eyes to stare blankly at the tent flap for a second before turning them to glance at Lexa shortly.

"Heda," Myles starts, trying to reign in her exhausted frustration and the bitter resentment left over from the events in Tondc. "People died for this," looking back down at the maps determinedly. "Because of me, people died for this. I have to make this work, I have to make their deaths mean something."

Lexa swallows beside her, staying silent for a moment as she stares at the redhead, "you're doing what I did when I first took command."

"And what would that be?" Myles retorts drily, the soft and knowing lilt to the commanders voice not going unnoticed to her distracted ears.

"We can't move forward," Lexa states simply as she turns to walk to the table with weapons on it behind the redhead. "And it's giving you too much time to think." Metal clinks together gently under the commanders hands, "once Bellamy shuts down the acid fog and the battle begins, everything will be clear."

"What if it isn't?" Myles insists, brushing the fingers of her good hand over the papers and not turning to look at the commander. "What if there's an alarm or a back up system we don't know about?"

"It's war, Myles," the young woman remarks from behind her, "people die. You cannot avoid that."

The matter-of-fact tone Lexa says the words with strikes heavily at the redheads heart. Her constantly whirring mind flutters with images of Bellamy and Mount weather, the aftermath of the missile attack in Tondc invading her senses as if she was back in the throes of the devastation.

"What if it is too dangerous," the red haired teen stresses, bringing her jittering, broken hand up to press the harsh material of her splint into her long ponytail. "And I sent him in there to do it anyway?"

"I know you care about him –," the commander starts, but Myles doesn't let her continue.

"I care about _all_ of them," Myles' tired voice announces, spinning around to look at Lexa's back. The young woman turns to face her when the Arkers red ponytail whips around in the corner of her eyes, and the hard, blank look in the commanders eyes stirs a fire inside of the redheads chest. "I care about the people in Tondc. I care about this army. I care about everyone of our people in that mountain."

"You worry about him more," Lexa's voice is calmer than Myles', as if she's not on the edge of a war, waiting to march into battle.

"My people wouldn't be alive without him," the redhead proclaims, ignoring the tingling feeling over her skin that mimics the touches of Bellamy Blake, her two best friends and the delinquents that have become her family.

The airy fluttering of the ghosts of touches keeps her left arm shaking and her chest on fire. Soft kisses to her hair and gentle squeezes of her hands; shoulders brushing together and fingers gliding through her long hair; light touches on her arms and a hand on her lower back. Each touch is distinct, the memories instantly recognisable.

Bellamy's adoring reminders that electrify her senses and the loving bond of Jasper and Monty that always keeps her going. Kind, nonjudgmental hugs from Harper that make it just as easy to put yourself back together again as it is to fall apart and the silent, loyal feeling of Nathan Miller standing by her side. Bree and Del's hands helping make and clean supplies for the camp, and Fox and Jake's knees and elbows brushing against Myles' as they sit around the fire.

What's left of the delinquents, of her family, they're all in Mount Weather, and they're all going to die if this doesn't work.

"We need him," Myles asserts strongly, her hazel eyes never wavering from Lexa's brown. Icy pangs shoot through her chest and her mouth opens and shuts as she struggles to get her next words out. "And now… I might be the one who gets him killed."

"That's what it means to be a leader, Myles," the commander replies evenly, stepping towards her slowly. Lexa's brown eyes flick between the redheads hazel, "The truth is, we must look into the eyes of our warriors and say, 'go, die for me'."

"No," Myles huffs softly, shaking her head in disbelief. "You make it sound so easy."

"Not easy," the commander corrects, standing her ground, "but simple, yes."

"My life isn't worth more than theirs," the red haired teen retorts drily, slowing her words down to match the pace that Lexa speaks with. "You may believe yours is, and maybe you're right, but mine isn't." Lexa's eyes shine with a curious glint, and Myles tears her eyes away to stalk back over to the maps weighed down with lit candles. "We need to get back to the plan, make sure we have all our bases covered."

"No," the commander says simply when the redhead reaches the table. Myles' red eyebrows twitch up in a bitter look as she turns slowly to lock her eyes on Lexa's again. "You could be a leader your people look to," the redhead scoffs, shaking her head at the commander's words. "Pour their hopes and dreams into. Someone they would fight and die for."

"I don't want that," Myles answers strongly, her hazel gaze never wavering in her plea for the young woman to understand. "I have never wanted that! I am not a leader! I'm not some _god_ your people seem to think their leaders are. I just want to keep everyone alive."

The words only serve to strengthen the resolve in Lexa's eyes, and Myles shakes her head slowly. Turning away again, the redhead lifts her good hand and it stutters in hesitation on its way down to rest on the table. Frustration and exhaustion begin to fade into dejection, the weight of what people keep expecting of her grows heavier and heavier on her overwhelmed shoulders. Since when did her 'job' go from trying to help people, to asking them to die in the masses for her?

Lexa steps up to stand beside Myles, watching her for a moment before breaking the silence.

"You were born for this, Myles," the commander declares dully, "same as me."

Scoffing quietly, the red haired teens eyes flick up from the maps to stare hopelessly at the tent flap across from them as Lexa turns away from the table again. Shaking her head slightly, the throbbing ache of the burden weighing her down flares up predominantly. Rubbing her temple with her good hand, Myles steps around the table to head for the tent flap.

"I'm gonna go get some air," the redhead announces tiredly, "take a break and come back to the plan."

"Reshop, Maiyls," Lexa replies smoothly, and the red haired teen halts in her steps. **[AN: "goodnight, Myles."]**

'Reshop'? It almost sounds like 'rest up', but if you slurred the words together with strong 'r', 's' and 'p' sounds. Thinking it through for a quick moment, Myles turns her eyes back to the commander who watches her curiously.

"Goodnight to you, too, Heda," Myles answers, turning around to continue leaving but not missing the spark in the commanders eyes at how quickly she figured it out.

The cold winter air slaps her in the face the second she steps out of the tent. A warrior she's never met before stands beside Ryder, and both men look to her as soon as the tent material shifts. Myles doesn't stop, only glancing at them fleetingly with a forced, polite smile while she keeps walking. Her chest still feels like she's suffocating to death slowly even though she's left the tent, and it keeps her mind awake and alert. Ryder slips into the tent behind her and the stony look in his eyes as he goes makes the redheads steps falter.

Sucking in a long breath, Myles lets it out slowly and allows her eyes to glance around her surroundings. Hazel eyes land on Octavia Blake crouching alone by a fire only a few metres to her right, and the sight of the Blake sister causes her steps to stop altogether. Black dust is smeared over her eyes still, accentuating the angry look she's glaring at the flame with, and the top of her long, dark brown hair is braided back with the grounder warriors signature braids.

Nothing else stops around them, warriors continue to yell and chatter amongst themselves as they wander around the camp. Weapons are being sharpened and fiddled with carelessly, seeming more to have them out and ready than for anything else. Grounders march around aimlessly, a few stand guard in front of certain tents and around the edges of the camp, but most appear to be in groups with their friends. Yet, Octavia is all alone, and the sight sends a thick wave of guilt crashing into the red haired teen.

Turning to walk towards the Blake sibling, the teen only flicks her deep brown eyes up to her for a second before diverting her gaze to the ground. It doesn't sit right with Myles, and it reminds her that Octavia doesn't just have her new family with the delinquents in there, but she has her brother, Bellamy, in there. The dark brown haired girl doesn't move to look back up at Myles when she comes to a stop directly across the fire from her, or when she crouches down to mirror the teen. Sucking in her rosy lips for a second, the red haired girl thinks for a moment about what she should say.

"Are you okay?" Myles settles on, her tone kind and soft as she tilts her head slightly and grasps her splint with her good hand.

Octavia doesn't glance up, instead replying in a mumbled, dark voice, "I've been going over it and over it in my head just trying to figure out how…" The Blake sister pauses, not just in her words but the small fiddling with her hands. Looking up suddenly, she finally meets Myles' eyes, "you're still alive."

Ice cold pangs shoot through her body, regret mingling with the sour taste of self-hatred. Not wanting to say something that could make the situation worse, the red haired teen decides to hope she's heard her friend wrong.

"Are you talking about the missile?" Myles asks gently, switching her hazel gaze between the teens deep brown eyes and trying to ignore how they remind her of Bellamy.

"You told me…" Octavia starts darkly, "to leave when you got to Tondc. Before the missile hit." The bright, hot fury in the brunettes eyes doesn't warm the chills running through Myles' body. "I know you, Myles. Something's wrong. And then you, Lexa and Clarke disappear and just happen to survive?"

"O…" the redhead breathes softly, turning her eyes to the ground, unable to take seeing Bellamy's eyes filled with so much hatred.

"Tell me you didn't know it was coming," Octavia demands, but Myles can't look up, can't meet her eyes.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, the redhead can't help the small, subconscious shake of head as she says, "Octavia…"

"You let all those people die," the brunette spits out angrily, "so much for the Ghost." Myles' hazel eyes finally look back up to Octavia, and it's only when she tries to focus on the teen that she notices her eyes are filling with tears. The Blake sister shoots to her feet to stalk over to her angrily. "What? You were just gonna let me live and move on?"

"O," Myles tries thickly, rising to her feet as Octavia stops in front of her to tower over her. Reaching her hands out, the redhead hesitates, before deciding not to touch the Blake sister while she's so angry. Panting quick, wet breaths, "I did it to save Bell. To keep them from finding out we have an inside man and so that we could win this war."

"O," the redhead repeats through the tears that are starting to escape her eyes when Octavia only scrunches up her face furiously and shakes her head. "I tried, I really tried, but there was no other way. There was no other way to keep them from finding Bellamy."

"No," Octavia grits out, "Bellamy would have never told you to do that. He would've found another way."

The brunettes words make the rapid breaths Myles is taking in cease and the desperate moving of her hands and head stop. Shame and guilt course through her veins heavily, making her limbs feel weighed down.

Looking at Octavia sadly and opening her mouth silently for a moment, "I couldn't take that risk."

"Right," the Blake sibling replies sarcastically, "because you and Clarke are in charge now, and you two decide who's disposable."

"O," Myles pleads wetly, trying to make Octavia understand that she has never hated herself more. "I'm sorry – I – "

"Who would've thought," the brunette growls, enraged, "the Ghost would've fit right in on the council."

Octavia stomps forward, slipping around Myles and quickly storming off. The sudden absence of the angry brunette makes the redhead feel something she hasn't felt in a long time.

True loneliness.

Staying frozen for a moment, the possible repercussions of the furious Blake sister telling someone doesn't register until Octavia is several metres away. Quickly wiping her face and jogging after her, Myles tries to ignore the pain left behind by the angry brunettes words.

"Hey," the redhead calls, trying to keep her tone low and quiet. "Octavia, wait."

"What?" Octavia snaps, stopping and whirling around on her heels to face the red haired teen.

Myles comes to a stop in front of her, watching the brunettes impatient face for any signs that her rage might calm down. It doesn't, the Blake sibling only looks angrier the longer Myles keeps her waiting for a reply. Opening and closing her mouth for a moment, Myles searches for the right words, but everything feels so _wrong_.

"You – ," the redhead hesitates quietly, shaking her head softly and keeping her red eyebrows in a worried frown. "I can't – you can't tell anyone. If the people here found out, the allia – "

"The alliance will break," Octavia finishes bitterly for her in a much louder voice, as Lexa and Ryder step around the tent behind her and look at them. The commanders face is clearly unhappy with the scene unfolding, and her steps behind the oblivious brunette are predatory. Switching her worried hazel eyes from Lexa, back to Octavia, "I'm not an idiot, Myles." Octavia spins on her heels again, and her only reaction to seeing the commander standing directly behind her is a slight stutter in her angry strides. "Commander."

"Octavia," Lexa greets back, and this time the Blake sibling does slow her pace.

"It's time for the southernmost guard post rotation," Ryder informs her, and Octavia comes to a stop as she glances between the two grounders. "You should relieve them."

"Indra expects me to be on the scouting mission," Octavia replies, and the words send dark thoughts through the redheads mind. Her left hand jitters when the brunette continues, "with Lincoln."

"And now you're needed at the guard post," Ryder corrects, but it doesn't sit right in Myles' gut. Their harsh way of life, and the commander hearing Octavia's bitter acknowledgment of the current threat to their people's alliance will only put her in harms way. "Indra will join you there shortly."

It's silent for a moment, and Lexa lifts her chin up high, a silent show of her standing her ground. Octavia takes her cue, walking around the two grounders and heading south through the camp. Myles grinds her teeth, watching the Blake sibling turn back to look at her scornfully. Lexa hears the change in her footsteps, and leans her body around to lock her hard gaze on the teen.

"She won't say anything," Myles promises, stepping up to stand beside Lexa to watch the Blake sibling keep on walking without turning back around again.

"You can't be sure of that," the commander retorts, turning to face Myles. "Too many people know, Myles."

The undertones in her voice, the implication in her words hardens Myles. Her hazel eyes aren't soft with worry anymore when they lock on Lexa's brown, but the fiery stubbornness that's kept her alive for so long dances around her delicate features.

"You worry about your people," Myles deadpans, not once wavering in her tone or her eye contact. "I'll worry about mine."

Lexa holds her eyes for a moment before Myles breaks off the contact to walk to the west end of the camp. The back of her brain itches with the sensation of being watched as she saunters away, but her mind is too transfixed with everything else going on to turn back around and check that it's the commander. Weaving her way through the hordes of people and closely erected tents, Myles' tired mind eats itself away with worry for the Blake siblings and their friends in Mount Weather.

They're going to need to keep an eye on Octavia, the girl is easily affected by emotions, and being on Lexa's radar doesn't bode well. Chewing her lip nervously, hazel eyes can't help but jut around in paranoia. Some people meet her eyes, sending shivers down her spine and her left arm. It feels as if everyone knows. Like everyone knows about her knowing of the missile attack, of what happened in Mount Weather, of what she's done since landing on Earth.

Of Rhys.

Swallowing, Myles turns her eyes back to the ground in front of her to avoid the prying looks of the warriors she walks past. Maybe she can't do anything about Mount Weather yet, but she can protect Octavia. Hastening her pace, the redhead takes a second to cherish the blissful feeling of nearing her destination. The sight of one of the tents in front of her makes her brisk pace turn into an impatient jog.

Flinging the flap of a small tent open, relief floods through her bones at the sight of a sleeping Clarke. The tent looks uneven, one half filled with Clarke wrapped up in her bedroll, Myles' unopened bedroll still in its bag beside her. Slipping inside quickly, Myles wastes no time in crouching down beside her friend and gently tapping her arm.

"Clarke?" Myles urges, shaking the girls arm slightly. "Clarke, wake up. Up and at 'em, princess." Clarke scrunches up her face, rolling her head on her jacket to face the redhead calling to her. Bleary blue eyes blink open slowly, and Myles tips her head lightly. "Sorry. We've got a problem."

"What?" Clarke slurs out, rubbing her eyes and leaning up to prop herself up on her elbows. "What's going on?"

"O knows we knew about the missile," the red haired teen whispers, and her blonde friends face freezes in shock.

"What?" Clarke demands in shock, pulling her brows together and flinging her whole body up to sit up straight in her bedroll. "How?"

"She said she didn't understand how we survived," Myles shakes her head softly, "Why the first thing I did when we got there was ask her to leave Tondc. She figured we had to know."

"Damn it," the blonde huffs, bringing her hands up to her face in distress.

"That's not the bad part," the redhead informs her, her red brows quirking up in a worried frown.

Clarke's face pales, her body ceasing all motion, "how could that not be the bad part?"

"Lexa overheard her talking about the alliance breaking if people knew," Myles answers, the heavy sense of foreboding hanging heavily over her head.

"No," Clarke refuses, shaking her head adamantly, "n – no! Lexa won't do anything to Octavia. That won't be a problem."

Bouncing on the balls of her feet in her crouched position, Myles replies, "she sent Octavia to the south-end of camp to be on watch."

"So?" Clarke asks in confusion, not following her paranoid friends vague train of thought.

"So," the redhead continues, "she was just told by Indra to go on a scouting mission with Lilo. They told her to forget Indra and go straight for the post."

Realisation dawns on Clarke's features, and the blonde reaches back for her jacket and boots. Both teens are on their feet in an instant and darting through the tent flap. It's eerily silent between them, only the sounds of the gradually quieting army floating around them. Warriors have started going to bed since Myles first had gone into the tent to go over the battle plans, making their loud chattering more reserved. Where she couldn't see through the swarms of people before, now they can get a good look at what's around them.

"We'll go talk to Lexa," Clarke suggests over their purposeful strides back the way Myles came. "Straighten this out."

Myles merely quirks her eyebrows in answer, following her friend diligently. They're almost halfway there when something to their right turns the red haired teens chest to ice and she digs her heels into the ground. Her good hand darts out to grip around Clarke's arm, but she doesn't wait for the blonde to stop before storming in the direction of what's caught her eyes.

Indra sits on the ground with two others beside a fire-pit, Octavia nowhere in sight. Myles' hand lets go of Clarke when they're a few metres away from the dark skinned woman.

"Indra," Myles greets, and the warriors eyes flick up to her and Clarke as they approach. "Aren't you supposed to be on watch?"

Indra's face twists in confusion at the two girls stopping in front of her, "I don't stand post."

"Well… um, where's Octavia?" Clarke quizzes when Myles can only stammer in shock.

"With Lincoln," Indra answers simply, her dark eyes twinging with worry. Myles' stomach drops, "scouting the mountain."

Clarke turns to face Myles in shock but the pale girl is already moving. Jogging towards the south-end of camp, the redhead doesn't even bother trying to silence her steps, instead letting the sounds of her frantic steps mingle with Clarke's. Neither girl slows down until they reach the end of their camp and they break through the tree-line into the pitch black early morning woods.

"Quiet," Myles tells Clarke lowly, silencing her boots and pulling her gun from her waistband.

"You don't have any bullets," Clarke deadpans in a hushed tone while she pulls out her own gun, trying to mimic Myles' careful and skilled steps.

Hazel eyes jut to the blonde for a second, tilting her head, "I took five of yours."

"What?" Clarke asks, but her tone is light and airy, as if she finds it funny.

"You still have ten," the redhead reassures lowly, "they took all the fun guns, we both have glocks. We'll be fine." Suddenly, Myles yanks up her bad hand to stop Clarke, and points to their left. "There's O."

The musings of their camp is slowly drowned out, until all they can hear is the soft chirps of insects. Hazel eyes scan around the dark trees, trying to ignore the cold winter air that invades her body now that they're away from the fires of their camp. It doesn't take long to spot Ryder stalking the Blake sibling, and the second she does, she changes course to make sure they can sneak up on him. Myles doesn't want to spook either Octavia or Ryder, but the small shifting of the warriors body makes her heart stutter with dread.

In Ryder's hands is a bow and arrow, and he slowly lifts it up to take aim on the unsuspecting brunette. Hastening her steps slightly, Myles and Clarke both lift their weapons. Myles' steps are just in front of Clarke's, making her gun reach Ryder's head a few seconds before her blonde haired friends does.

"Don't…" Myles grits out lowly and the warrior stills, "move."

"I have my orders," Ryder murmurs, but he doesn't release the arrow.

"I don't care," Clarke whispers darkly, her voice colder than the winter air. Myles' splint-covered hand reaches out to wrap her two movable fingers around the wooden stick of the arrow, her blood bubbling with anxiety at the thought of Ryder letting the arrow fly. "This is not happening."

"Drop your bow," Myles mutters harshly, "or I'll blow your head off."

_What's a little more blood?_

Ryder slowly lowers his bow, but he keeps his eyes trained on the Blake sister. If Myles' body wasn't alight with barely contained fury, she'd allow herself to feel relief in this moment.

"Good choice," Clarke remarks lowly, her body sagging as she releases the stiffness Myles hadn't even noticed consume her limbs.

"Let's go, right now," Myles spits out, yanking on his arm with the harsh material of her splint.

Ryder begins to move on his own, making his way back to camp but neither teen lowers their weapons. Myles keeps her splint hooked in his left elbow and her gun pressed roughly to the long hair covering the back of his neck. Their steps don't pick up pace until they get closer to camp, and Myles' anger begins to simmer to a point of no return.

The sun peeks over the horizon, turning the pitch black night sky shades of grey and warm orange. If anything, the reminder that time is passing with no progress in the mountain makes her simmering veins start to boil. Her frustration begins to rub off on Clarke when the nosey eyes of the warriors around them stare at the two Arkers angrily escorting Ryder at gunpoint through the camp.

Neither of the two girls slows down their long strides or lowers their guns, even as they reach the commanders huge tent. Clarke flings the woven material aside, and her hand clutching her gun joins Myles' to push on Ryder's back. Together, they march the warrior right up to where Lexa sits on her throne, smearing black dust over her eyes. A small gold gear is stuck to her forehead, between her eyes.

They've seen the symbol before, braided into her hair when she's not got her war paint on. A few of the grounders here have them, but only Lexa wears hers on her face. Everyone else they've seen with one has them braided into their hair or their horses hair. It's fitting the commander is wearing it now, her whole outfit, though always very obviously pristine and screaming importance, has changed as well. What she had been wearing ever since the gorilla attack five days ago had been more reserved.

A blend of dark, long cloth coats covering her black pants with leather delicately and flatteringly wrapping around her shoulders and waist for weapons. Now, she wears what the Arkers had first met her in. Her battle clothes, while strikingly similar to what she had been wearing, her long coat is gone and thick and heavy armour replace it. It's menacing, showing she's a force to be reckoned with and she's not afraid to fight, instead of the authoritative yet respectable casual clothes of a highly regarded leader.

Lexa's menacing clothes doesn't deter the Arkers, though. The red haired teen and Clarke continue to march Ryder right up to her throne, before Myles halts suddenly. Roughly kicking her boot into the back of Ryder's right knee and sweeping her leg around his to shove him to his knees as hard as she can.

"You sent him to kill Octavia?" Myles seethes, making sure Lexa can see the handgun she has pressed to his head. "What the absolute fuck is wrong with you?"

"She is not a problem," Clarke announces, stepping forward angrily.

The commanders eyes flitter between the three of them, before hardening and landing on Ryder.

"Leave us," Lexa rumbles out lowly, a threatening tone that could make the ground shake.

"No," Myles refuses, shoving his head with her broken hand into her abdomen to hold him there with the hard material of her splint. Pressing the nozzle of the gun hard into his skin, "I want to make sure nothing will happen to my boyfriend's little sister. Give that to me, and he can go."

"We're not letting him out of our sight," Clarke fumes, pressing her gun to the other side of his head.

Lexa stands up quickly and addresses her warrior again, "stand down for now and wait for my command."

Myles doesn't move her gun for a moment, instead looking into the commanders stormy eyes. Lexa doesn't shift, doesn't move a muscle or bat an eye, only continuing to hold the redheads gaze. Clenching her jaw and swallowing through the lump in her throat, the redhead lowers her gun and steps back from the warrior still on his knees. Clarke's gun stays pressed to his head, but Ryder mustn't think she's a threat, because he turns his head to her and shoves the weapon away from himself. Ryder stands, sending a glare to both of the Arkers before stalking out of the tent.

Myles' eyes stay on the commanders, her blazing eyes fading into exhaustion but still holding the same silent challenge. Clarke's gaze follows Ryder, her whole body turning to watch him leave and her mouth spluttering shocked gibberish, as if she still wanted to follow him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Clarke demands bitterly, turning back around and marching up to Lexa.

"She knew," the commander answers simply, watching the blonde with a strange sadness in her eyes.

"I get it," Myles mutters, and both girls whip their heads to her. "You don't trust her. But you can't kill everyone you don't trust."

"Yes, I can," Lexa denies strongly, stepping around Clarke to walk up to a table with knives on it to their left.

"Well," Clarke presses as she follows her closely, "I won't let you."

"You were willing to let her die two days ago," the commander sighs out, staring at the girls with an almost bored expression.

"I wasn't," Myles mumbles, "I told her to leave Tondc before we saw you. I was never going to let her die."

Lexa's brown eyes switch from Myles to Clarke, "But you were. Nothing has changed."

"You're wrong," the blonde haired teen asserts, and the commanders hands pause as they strap weapons to her body. Brown eyes flick up to the Arkers blue, "I have. I can't do this anymore."

Clarke spins on her heels, making her way to the tent flap to leave, but Myles stays still, her hazel eyes cautiously watching the scene.

"Octavia's a threat," Lexa declares when Clarke's only a few steps from the exit, stopping her. Myles snorts obnoxiously, "If you weren't so close to her," the young woman walks to stand between the Arkers, her eyes switching between them, "you'd see that."

Scoffing, Myles shakes her head as she replies, "it's because we're close to her that we can be sure she's loyal."

"Her brother is more important to her than anyone," Clarke informs the commander heatedly. "She would never endanger his life."

"And you're willing to risk everyone on that?" Lexa enquires, her tone soft in an almost condescending manner. "On your feelings?"

"Always," Myles answers certainly, "'plans don't last in battle,' that's what you said. So, tell me, Heda, if plans don't last, if strategy doesn't last, if thinking and using your head doesn't last – what's left?" Lexa only stares blankly at her, "maybe feelings are too much of a risk, but that's why you use them as a guide. Octavia is not a threat."

"That's not a guide," the commander refutes, "you're only saying that because of your feelings."

"You say having feelings makes us weak…" Clarke starts, "but you're weak for hiding from them. I might be a hypocrite, Lexa, but you're a liar."

Lexa lifts her chin up, clearly unhappy with Clarke's words. Brown eyes turn stoney, and her whole body stiffens.

"Gustus," Myles lists, squinting her eyes at the commander. "Costia. Anya. The people in Tondc. The 300 warriors at the dropship."

"You felt something for all of them," Clarke sneers, stepping up close to the shaken commander. Lexa takes a step back with every step that Clarke takes towards her, and Myles saunters along right behind her friend, enjoying the fact that something is finally _happening_. "You want everyone to think you're above it all, but we see right through you."

Clarke backs Lexa up until she backs into a table and can't go any further. Conflicted brown eyes don't find Myles, only staring into Clarke's blue. It's silent for a moment and the commanders face twitches.

"Get…" Lexa rumbles, her face screwing up in fury, "…out."

"Two hundred and fifty innocent people died in Tondc," Myles reminds her softly, but Lexa's eyes are still stuck on Clarke's.

"I know you felt for them," the blonde whispers, "but you let them burn."

The words strike a cord in Lexa, and finally her eyes flick to Myles fleetingly, as if she'd forgotten she was there at all. Instantly, the commanders gaze is back on the blonde standing so close their bodies are brushing against each other with every breath. Brown eyes shine and she swallows before speaking again.

"Not everyone," Lexa whispers thickly, her brown eyes flicking between Clarke's two blue and pursing her lips as if her mouth is trying to bite back the words she just said. Myles takes a step back awkwardly, "Not you."

Lexa was willing to let Myles go back into the village for Marcus, but not Clarke. She wanted Clarke by her side; she hadn't wanted Clarke to go with Myles to find the shooter, and when the blonde had chosen to go with Myles, Lexa stayed with her. Right by her side.

Myles almost wants to smile, the tension between the two finally being voiced is a rare bittersweet moment in what's been a lifetime of rancid hours. Taking another step back, Myles watches as Clarke's whole body sags, leaning almost into Lexa at the commanders words. The redhead can't see her friends face, but her posture gives away her soft expression.

"Well," Clarke starts, her voice airy and soft as Lexa's eyelashes flutter and Myles keeps backing up uncomfortably. "If you care about me, then… trust me." The commander looks away for a moment, "Octavia is not a threat."

"I can't do that," Lexa says regretfully after a short moment, her features hardening again.

"Then trust me," Myles' hard voice breaks through the quickly souring atmosphere. Slouching back predatorily and taking a few slow steps towards the two girls, "I won't sacrifice my people anymore. If you so much as think about doing anything to hurt Octavia, I'll tell everyone that we knew about the missile."

Lexa's hard eyes flick between the two Arkers, and Myles knows she's sizing them up.

"See how _loyal_ that army is then," Clarke declares strongly, taking a step back.

"How's that...," Myles starts slowly, turning around and stalking out of the huge tent with Clarke's steps following behind her. "...for a plan?"

Once they're out of the tent, Clarke's footsteps halt behind her for a moment. Myles doesn't stop to turn around and check on her until she's almost five metres away.

It's the first time she's been off of her feet in hours. Clarke and Myles are sitting by the fire-pit next to their tent. Tired hazel eyes are glued to the flickering flame, but Clarke's eyes are scanning the army around them. Myles is still, probably making up for her blonde haired friends anxious bouncing of her legs. The redhead is almost lying on the ground, her body stretched out at an awkward angle to avoid the fire and leaning her head against the wooden log Clarke's sitting on.

"We can't trust these people," Clarke murmurs quietly, clearly worried about someone overhearing them.

"I don't know," Myles slurs out distractedly, "it's kinda like the council." Tearing her eyes away from the fire to glance up at Clarke, the top of her head brushing against her thigh. "But, you know… on crack."

Clarke shakes her head and Myles looks back at the fire, "the council was trying to keep the human race alive." Red eyebrows quirk up sluggishly, "they had feelings."

"Some of them maybe," the redhead agrees, "the human race was already alive and thriving on Earth. What they should've done is kept their humanity alive."

"Yeah, well," Clarke scoffs, "they don't seem to have that down here either."

Myles doesn't reply straight away, instead letting the silence sit for a moment.

"She loves you," Myles expresses carefully, and she can feel Clarke stiffen. Rolling her head to meet her eyes, her head brushes against her thigh again. "All the pressure that's on our shoulders right now… it's on hers, too. Has been for a long time." Looking back at the fire, "All any of us can do is try not to get crushed by it. She's been crushed by it before, and she's had to lean into her beliefs and laws to put herself back together."

"So... What?" Clarke asks, huffing out a small breath, "we keep sacrificing our people – letting them burn? Be drilled into and speared?"

"No," Myles refuses kindly, shaking her head slightly against the log. "We show them that life and death can mean something, and that it's not a bad thing if they do."

Clarke lets the words sink in, her body relaxing and her anxious shifting slowing to a stop. It's a few minutes before the blonde speaks again.

"How do we do that?" Her voice is soft and the words all fall out in one quick breath. "If not all of our people believe that? If all they've ever known is this, and – and mountain men, and – fighting?"

Rolling her head to meet Clarke's soft eyes, "I mean, we're doing okay, right? We've had some hiccups and made some really, really soul-destroying decisions – but the lives and deaths of those around us still matter." The blondes features keep relaxing as she thinks the words through. "We can't make all the right decisions all the time, but we can save our people. Give them a chance at living instead of just... surviving."

"Yeah," Clarke breathes out, looking up to the muted morning sun. "Bellamy will disable the acid fog, and we'll make one more bad decision, have one more fight, and save our people."

Sighing heavily, Myles turns her hazel eyes back to the fire. One more bad decision. Just a few more lives they've gotta take. One more battle, and everything will be okay. The grounders will wage war, and their people will be _safe_.

Crunching footsteps approach them, and both teens turn to look up at the man coming to a stop beside them.

"The commander has summoned you," the man informs them, and Clarke and Myles look at each other.

"You go," Myles waves off, scrunching up her eyebrows sarcastically. "I think it'll be a little more dramatic to let my last words simmer a bit longer."

Clarke scoffs through a smile as she stands up, "you're awful."

"Love you, too, princess!" Myles calls out loudly with a huge smile across her face when Clarke makes it a few metres away from her.

The blonde doesn't say anything back, just holds up her hand to flip her the middle finger. An overwhelming sense of loneliness overcomes Myles once her blonde haired friend slips into the huge tent and out of sight. Hazel eyes find the fire again, and minutes begin to tick by before blurring together.

Suddenly, her attention breaks away when a bright red light soars over the mountains in front of her. It's a flare, and it's coming from Camp Jaha. Bellamy did it. Another smile graces her features as she bolts upright into a sitting position, but this time her smile is one of relief, and not jest. Quickly scrambling to her feet, her gaze remains stuck on the flare flying higher and higher in the sky as grounders begin to shout and holler at the sight of it. Myles' distracted footsteps begin to slowly make their way to the commanders tent.

"Flashen-de!" A man shouts loudly, his voice roaring over the excited chatter of the army. "Heda, komba raun! Snap!" **[AN: "The signal! Commander, come! Quick!"]**

"Em ste ona Skai!" Another warrior bellows, just as Lexa and Clarke emerge from the commanders tent. **[AN: "it's in the sky!"]**

Hazel eyes finally tear away from the flare to jog up to Clarke, who's still standing beside Lexa and looking up at the sky. Reaching her quickly, Myles grips her shoulders and shakes her happily.

"Bellamy did it," Myles breathes when Clarke meets her eyes, and the blonde smiles at her before pulling her into a relieved hug.

"You were right to have faith in him," the commander praises, turning away from the flare to meet Myles' hazel eyes. Clarke pulls out of the hug to look back at Lexa, but both of the Arkers keep their hold on each other's shoulders. The foreboding feeling hanging over their heads becomes heavier with dread, making the redheads relief slowly fade into unease. "Now we fight."

"Oo-rah," the red haired teen mutters dully, Clarke meets her eyes and nods.

"Oo-rah," Clarke echoes, before tilting her head back to look up at the sky.

Lexa watches them for a quick moment, "oo-rah." Myles barely has enough time to meet her brown eyes, the commander instantly turning away to run to the edge of a steep decline and address her army scattered across the land. The Arkers both quickly follow her, jogging up behind her and looking over the thousands of warriors crowded around tents and fire-lit torches. Warriors call to her, and she points to the men to their left. "Teik em laud, tromon-de." **[AN: "sound the horn."]**

Instantly, the three men standing to the side all raise their fog horns and blow into them loudly. It's one long note, the deep tone echoing loudly in the late morning woods. Everyone below them is silent now, awaiting for the next words from their commander.

"Gon wor!" Lexa bellows out, and Myles doesn't need to think too hard to know that she just said, 'to war'.

Lexa's eyes sparkle with a strange look as her chest heaves rapidly, her brown gaze scanning the eagerly screaming warriors below them. Myles turns her head and meets Clarke's eyes, spying the glint of fear in them. Tipping her head to the side, Myles glances back to the screaming warriors, repeating Lexa's words lowly under her breath in dread.

"Gon wor."

The late morning sun quickly turns into a warm glow in the early afternoon winter sky. They've been walking for fifteen minutes, but Myles can't stop looking back at Octavia. Myles and Clarke have been walking beside Lexa, right at the very front of the army, and Octavia is with Indra not far behind them. Glancing back again, the red haired teens left arm jitters anxiously at how close the Blake sibling is to the front. Unable to stop herself or wait any longer, Myles slows down.

Clarke notices straight away and abandons Lexa to walk beside her red haired friend. Worried and exhausted hazel eyes meet Clarke's soft blue, and instead of gradually slowing to reach Octavia, Myles stops. The readily approaching army keeps moving, and it doesn't take more than a moment for Octavia to get closer to them. Stepping to the side to walk beside the dark brown haired teen and match her stride, Myles greets her evasive friend.

"Hey," the redhead says lightly, but the Blake sister doesn't make a move to look at her.

"What do you want?" Octavia rushes out dully, and Myles sucks in a breath.

Deciding to abandon the plan of talking, the redhead gets straight to the point.

"We're changing your mission," the red haired teen informs her, "you're not going to the mines."

Hazel eyes are no longer looking at Octavia, but she can still see the teen clench her jaw angrily.

Clarke steps in, "we're placing you in the rear guard."

"You'll be safe there," Myles finishes, barely sparing the girl another glance.

"Like hell you are," Octavia sneers hotly, "I don't take orders from you. I take orders from Indra."

"We're trying to keep you safe, Octavia," the redhead relays, looking softly at the angry teen.

"'Keep me safe'," the Blake sister scoffs, turning her head even further away from the two teens.

"One day," Clarke starts, "hopefully, you'll understand what we did"

"I'd actually prefer if you didn't," Myles divulges, "But maybe one day you won't hate us for it."

"Never," Octavia replies instantly, her tone sharp and bitter. "I'll fight this war with you now, because I want our friends back…" the brunette turns her head to stare pointedly at the two teens, "but after that, we're done."

Myles slows, but Clarke doesn't, instead keeping pace with the snarky sister. Exhaustion and frustration fill Myles' body, making her want nothing more than to fall to her knees and break down, right here, in the middle of this army. Sucking in her throat, the redhead shakes her head to try and find the strength she needs to fight for her friends. For Bellamy.

"The commander's looking for you," Indra informs Myles and Clarke, stepping up beside them.

"Thank you," Myles states, quickening her pace to jog beside Clarke and reach Lexa.


	16. Chapter 15-Blood Must Have Blood (pt 1)

Camp Jaha Guards have finally arrived. The afternoon sun shines high in the sky, the warm glow glaring through the woven material of the commanders large tent. Myles stands between Clarke and Lincoln, grounder warriors clustered around them face the entrance to the tent with them to greet the extra aid. Clarke and Lincoln seem relieved, and Lexa and her warriors appear hospitable, warmly accepting their brothers in arms.

"Welcome, Skaikru," Lexa greets thoughtfully from Clarke's side, her kind brown eyes scanning over the new Arkers faces. Monroe and Sgt. Miller approach with easily a dozen members of the guard cautiously, trying their hardest to be respectful in the commanders tent. "Join us."

Myles stares with her tired eyes held wide open, desperately trying to beg her mind to pay attention. Red eyebrows knit together slowly, her exhausted brain unable to recognise more than half of the Arkers faces. It's been a little over 70 hours without a minute of sleep, and it's beginning to really weigh Myles down.

Either that, or it's the unbelievably infuriating standstill they're at.

Blinking quickly, Sgt. Miller appears to teleport in front of her from his tentative spot slipping through the tent flap. The dark skinned man looks down at his hands, and Myles dizzily follows his eyes. A metal canister, about the length of both of the man's fists held together and too wide for his fingers to touch as they wrap around it, sits in his hands. Sluggish confusion clouds over Myles, having not noticed the canister before.

"A package from Raven," Sgt. Miller informs her at her perplexed expression, and hazel eyes jump back up to his kind and respecting gaze. "Hydrazine. Just like you said."

"Thank you," Myles nods, accepting the freezing cold feeling canister with a small, forced smile.

"And, uh…" the Ark guard starts, shifting his eyes to Clarke. "…your mother and Marcus," Sgt. Miller glances between the girls, "wanted to be here, too."

The mention of Marcus Kane sends a slow pang of something her aching mind doesn't recognise through her chest. A tangy sour stench reaches her nostrils, and Myles immediately writes it off as sweat from the man in front of them. Freezing cold metal starts to burn her slender fingers, the canister feeling as if it's only getting colder and colder.

"I know," Clarke replies, and Myles' left hand jitters. "But the wounded in Tondc need her more."

In another blink, Sgt. Miller is walking away from them and the redhead can't help wondering why the smell is stronger now that he's not here anymore. Her slurring mind halts altogether as her veins become hot and her slumped frame goes rigid.

Standing in front of the tent flap is her father, his belt hanging limply from his hand. Blinking in shock, it takes a second to register that she can't hear the belt buckle dragging across the ground. She's hallucinating, the lack of sleep not only affecting her motivation and awareness, but her senses. The fingers of her right hand twitch over the canister, making sure that the hydrazine wasn't an illusion without taking her fearful eyes off her fathers looming figure.

"Field commanders," Lexa's authoritative voice calls to the people in the tent, "today's the day we get our people back. The enemy thinks it's safe behind its doors, but it's not. When it realises that, it will fight back. Hard. We need to be ready."

Lexa's head shifts in the corners of her eyes, and Myles turns to look at her. The commanders brown eyes are flicking between the two teens beside her, before Clarke's blue eyes land on Myles as well. Swallowing and ignoring the man standing ominously in front of the tent entrance, the redhead tries to steady herself in what little shreds of reality her mind can grasp.

"This…" Myles starts, scanning her eyes jaggedly over the crowd of faces before stopping on the illusion of her father. "…is a rescue mission, first and foremost. We're not here to destroy their home or wipe them out."

"There are people inside that mountain that have helped us," Clarke adds, taking comfort in her red haired friends words.

"Children," the redhead continues, turning her heartfelt eyes to the ground to thwart a heavy wave of emotion that threatens to crash through her steadily throbbing mind. "Innocent people who have nothing to do with this war. But so do we. We kill their soldiers, their leaders if we have to, but we are here to save our people. Rescue them, and keep them safe."

"Is that clear?" Clarke finishes, her hard eyes matching the finality in Myles' tone.

Nods bounce from the heads in her room, but her father stays still. His ocean eyes hold a murderous loathing, lightly twisting his hand to make the belt in his grip shift ever so slightly and drag across the dirt in small motions. Turning to look at Clarke and Lexa, both girls merely watch the redhead patiently.

Quirking her red eyebrows, Myles tilts her head, "then we should begin." Stalking forward to round the table with an intricate three-demential map of Mount Weather made from metal scraps and wood, the red haired teen rests her splint under her good hand that holds the canister to disguise the trembling that shakes through her arm. "We've got four teams. There are two, one at the dam, the other in the mine…" Octavia and Indra marching with Reapers, and Wick and Raven planting bombs on turbines flash through her mind. "…who are already moving into position."

"The third is inside the mountain," Myles lists, stepping to and stopping at each destination on the table. Bellamy's adoring eyes cross her mind and her chest clenches. "Freeing the grounder prisoners as we speak." Shifting her attention to the people around her, only the Arkers faces aren't smeared in black war paint. "We're the fourth team, and it's our job to keep the eyes of the enemy off of the other three for as long as possible."

Everyone in the room is watching her, hanging onto her every word, and Myles has an itching suspicion that she's said something wrong. People don't pay this much attention to her, the eerily silent room chipping away at her slowly decaying mind. The only thing convincing her that she's not royally fucked this up is Clarke's calm demeanour, but if this wasn't real, if she was a hallucination too, would she say something?

"In order to do that," Myles continues, rounding the end of the table to face Clarke, Lexa and Lincoln. "We need our entire army in position at the main door. The mountain men believe the door can't be opened from the outside… so, they don't bother to guard it. Only… they're wrong. And thanks to our source on the inside, now we know how to open it."

"According to Maya," the redhead sighs tiredly, "the electromagnetic locking system has one flaw. When there's no power, it disengages. Unlocks. And that's where Raven's team comes in." Rounding the table again to stop beside the dam, "the mountains electricity, their power, is generated at the Philpott Dam. By now, they've taken the turbine room."

"They are gonna blow the power," Myles lifts up both of her hands to demonstrate, "make a big fucking boom that'll ruin their ability to make their own power until they can get someone in to fix it. Once that's done, we blow the lock with a boom of our own." Hazel eyes scan the faces again, "there's a catch, though. A backup generator inside the mountain."

"If the lock is still intact when the backup power starts to work," the red haired teen pauses, "we won't be able to blow it, and we will never get that door open. We'll never get our people back."

"How much time do we have?" Sgt. Miller asks, his face enthralled, but his eyebrows furrowed in concern when her hazel eyes lock on his. "Until the backup power kicks in?"

Myles doesn't even blink when she replies, "one minute."

"That's our window," Clarke confirms behind Myles, and the Sergeant looks to the ground with a troubled expression.

"Small window," the man remarks, and Myles remembers his son is one of the Arkers dying in that mountain as they speak. "Why don't we just take out the backup generator too? Bellamy's inside. Have him do it."

Bellamy Blake's name makes Myles freeze, her mind whirring with thoughts she can't understand. No one else says anything, but they don't have to, their faces showcasing their interest in Sgt. Miller's plan.

"Leaving them without power that long would kill them all," Clarke refuses for her red haired friend, and Myles' shoulders slump slightly.

"And that's not our mission," the redhead reminds him, causing the dark skinned man to look away as his body bounces with anxiety. "And, we, uh… lost contact with Bellamy."

"What?" Monroe demands in concern, and Myles meets her eyes. "We did? When?"

"After he, uh…" Myles starts, the same overwhelming feeling of wanting to break down into tears overlapping her exhaustion. "Took out the acid fog."

"Bellamy's a warrior," Lexa proclaims, but the redhead can't tear her gaze from the teen in front of her. Myles is reminded of her words to Lexa earlier, it's Bellamy who's kept them alive and held them together, made a family out of the misfits that they came down to Earth as. "He'll be fine."

"As the commander said," Clarke interjects when Myles doesn't continue. "Once the door is open, the shooting will start. And they'll throw everything they have at us."

"But that's what we want," Myles announces strongly, glancing around, "we want them looking at _us_ and only _us_, because while we're fighting here at the front door… Indra's team will be leading the prisoners through the reaper tunnels. Sneaking them out the back door, right under their noses. Once our people are free and safe, they'll sound the retreat."

"We'll be back home before Mount Weather even knows they're gone," Clarke summarises, and Myles slowly makes her way to stand beside her again.

Hazel eyes scan the eagerly listening and awaiting warriors, lifting her arms and saying, "and that's the plan. Easy-peasy."

With nothing left to say, Myles stays quiet, as does everyone else in the tent. Swallowing nervously, the red haired teen glances around the silent faces before doing a double take when her eyes pass over the tent flap. Her father is nowhere to be seen, having completely vanished while she had been laying out the plan. Lexa shifts in the corner of her eyes, and Clarke looks to her immediately, but Myles waits another moment before turning her attention to the commander.

"The mountain," Lexa begins, taking slow and predatory steps towards the table. "Has cast a shadow over these woods for too long. They've hunted us… controlled us… turned us into monsters." Myles glances at Lincoln, subtly trying to make sure he's still okay. "That ends today. Thanks to our alliance with the sky people, the mountain will fall. As Myles said, we spare the innocent... As for the guilty… jus drein, jus daun." **[AN: "blood must have blood."]**

Every single one of the grounders in the tent but Lincoln starts chanting the four word mantra. The Arkers remain silent, peering over the eagerly shouting grounder warriors as Lexa joins them. Hazel eyes land on Lincoln's hard brown eyes, and she quirks a red eyebrow in jest at the man's reserved appearance, earning a small smile and eyebrow twitch of his own. Warriors outside of the tent start chanting loudly, but that isn't what drags Myles' attention away from Lincoln.

Clarke is chanting earnestly with them all.

Monroe drilled into the large metal door hours ago, allowing Sgt. Miller to insert the hydrazine bomb when the sun was still out. Now, darkness cloaks Myles as she stands anxiously in the cold winter air, staring at the vault door under a large arch with 'Mount Weather' on it. Boulders as high as her waist stand directly in front of her, an extra security measure for when the bomb goes off. Two white lights sit on either side of the door, the rectangular slots and the hundreds of fire-lit torches around them barely dancing over the grooves in the door.

The grounder army stands behind her, they're all at a safe distance from the door, doing the same thing she's doing. Waiting. Waiting for Wick and Raven to do their part, and Myles can't help her exhausted and anxious mind from thinking of the worst case scenario. Footsteps crunch up beside her, coming from her right, but the redhead doesn't turn to look at who it is. Glimpses of her father keep appearing, flickers of him amongst the trees in the woods, standing in the shadows of the army around her. A part of her is scared to look to her right, afraid of seeing one of the only things she's truly terrified of by her side.

"Come on," Myles whispers, silently pleading with Wick and Raven after the footsteps stop.

"They'll do it," Clarke assures from beside her, and the tension eases from Myles' body at hearing her voice instead of her fathers.

"I wish they would already," the redhead breathes, heaving a sigh and not moving her eyes away from the door.

"They're probably waiting for something," Clarke suggests after an awkward beat of silence. "It's Raven. She knows what she's doing."

Red eyebrows quirk up, "I wish she'd tell me." Bouncing on her heels slightly when her legs start to ache and tingle with numbness, Myles huffs under her breath. White, transparent puffs float in front of her face, clouding over the door for a moment. Slow footsteps come up to her left-hand side, and it does nothing but escalate her impatience. "This isn't the plan. It's taking too long."

"It takes as long as it takes," Lexa's quiet voice assures her, her footsteps stopping beside the redhead. A long pause of fretful silence is broken by the commanders calm and soft voice, "What will you do when it's over?"

"The 'Dai Houpgeda'," Myles recalls in a low and slow tone when Clarke stays quiet, causing Lexa to turn her curious brown eyes to her. "Adelia told me about it, at the banquet. It's in Yujleda, two days south of the land narrowing. Might take Ryder. Try to help him find his soul."

Lexa huffs a quiet laugh, turning back to face the door and saying, "you will like that. It's a beautiful place, a nice break from saving everyone." Myles hums in response, before tilting her head towards Clarke and waiting for her answer. "Clarke?"

"I have no idea," the blonde haired teen finally answers, her words slow and her tone dry.

"Well," the commander turns her head to look at the teen around Myles, "what do you want?"

"Nothing," Clarke shakes her head, turning to look back at Lexa. "My friends back. I can't think past today."

It's moments like these that remind Myles that the people around her aren't used to fighting everyday to just _survive_. Where she had to grow up in an unloving and violent home, spending her free time trying to manage the crippling weight of everyone else's problems and lives, Clarke got to have her own life. Before her father died a year before they were put on the dropship, her biggest worries were homework, boys and her friends. Instead of dancing on the edge of death everyday by stealing extra food, medicine and clothes for people who needed them, Clarke pulled out her hair thinking about what she was going to wear to the masquerade party.

And then, just like that, her carefree world was ripped from her. Replacing homework with grief, and friends with solitude in solitary. Dresses and boys were abandoned to help try and keep everyone alive on Earth. The transition for Myles, Bellamy and Octavia had been a piece of cake in comparison to Clarke, and the thought sends a sharp pang of guilt coursing through her veins.

"You should come with me to the capital," Lexa suggests softly, causing the blonde to look back at her. "Polis will change the way you think about us, Clarke."

"You already have," Clarke admits, her blue eyes sincere and kind.

Hazel eyes widen on the door in front of them, bouncing on her heels slightly.

"You two are adorable," Myles asserts after a moment of them both looking around her and at each other. "But this is so awkward. I'm about to throw myself into that hydrazine."

Clarke scoffs, turning back to the door with a bright smile on her face, "you're terrible."

Lexa opens her mouth to say something when distant gunfire cracks through the night air. Hazel eyes jump from the door, to the spot on the mountain that she knows the dam hides behind. Clarke and the commander both stiffen, and eager and startled murmurs starts erupting from the army around them. Someone rushes up behind them as Myles connects the dots; this is why it's been stalled. The mountain men _know_.

"It's coming from the dam," Lincoln rushes out, coming to a stop and squeezing himself between Clarke and Myles.

"They know we're going for their power," Clarke breathes out in fear.

"They know we're going for the door," Myles corrects bitterly, and Monroe steps up on Lexa's other side.

Nothing happens for a moment, everything going deadly silent in the cold night air, before more gunfire echoes from the dam. Lincoln shifts on his feet anxiously, his armour brushing against Myles' right arm.

"Osir gou, Trigeda!" Lincoln bellows out to the army behind them, but Myles keeps her eyes stuck on the door, waiting for the power to go out. "Teik yo ogud!" **[AN: "our time, Tree Nation! Get ready!"]**

Eager chatter and weapons scraping pierces through the air sharply, and Monroe looks to the three girls standing with her.

"Raven will get it done," Monroe assures strongly, and Myles takes a deep breath in.

"Sure will," the redhead agrees, tilting her head to meet Monroe's eyes. "She's one of us."

Someone else comes up behind them quickly, and Myles turns back to face the door.

"As soon as those lights go off," Sgt. Miller reminds her, hovering over her shoulder and passing her a special walkie-talkie to detonate the bomb. "You push that button." Looking down at the device in her good hand, Myles glances up at Clarke and quirks her eyebrows before carefully holding out the walkie. Clarke quickly accepts it, "we'll do the rest."

"You got it, Sarge," the red haired teen breathes, bouncing on her heels and turning her full attention back to the door.

Adrenaline pumps hotly through her veins, making the overwhelming exhaustion Myles had been feeling disappear entirely. Finally, something is happening. Finally, this is about to end. Finally, her friends will be safe. Her breathing is slowing as her heart-rate skyrockets, hazel eyes switching between the two rectangular lights quickly. They're so close Myles can _smell_ it, she can _feel_ it, as if she were waiting for someone to leave the room so she could slip from the air vents and steal something.

Finally, it happens. The two lights shine brightly for a quick second before going out completely, leaving the army with only their fire-lit torches. A collective breath of relief is felt through the whole army, but it's not over yet.

"One minute," Myles whispers, staring at the door as Clarke huffs happily beside her.

"She did it," Clarke breathes out, shifting on her feet.

Sgt. Miller crouches between Lexa and Monroe, lifting up his watch and saying, "one minute starting now."

Clarke looks down at the walkie-talkie for a moment, before snapping her head up to Lexa and Myles beside her. The hesitation makes a hot rod of dread plough through Myles' gut and she snaps her head to meet the blondes gaze as she walks around her to stand between her and Lexa.

"For those we've lost," Clarke announces, switching her blue eyes between the commander and the redhead.

"And those – " Lexa starts to finish her speech from the banquet, but Myles cuts her off.

"Yeah, Yeah," Myles shouts, staring at Clarke in disbelief, "push the damn button!"

Clarke lifts up the walkie, holding it out for both her and Lexa to push the button. Lexa's fingers glide over Clarke's, and the button lights up red under their pressure as the device beeps once. All of the air leaves Myles' lungs in one panicked breath.

Nothing's happened. Not one little spark, _nothing_. Beeping continues to sound as Clarke and Lexa push the button repeatedly, but to no avail. Myles curses, feeling as if her veins are going to explode instead of the hydrazine.

"What's wrong?" Lexa's worried voice questions, "why isn't it working?"

"Jammer," Myles whispers, snapping her wide gaze to lock on Clarke's blue. "They're jamming the frequency, just like with the radios."

"I have to get closer," Clarke declares, tearing her hands away from Lexa's and starting to move away but Myles has another idea.

"No!" Myles shouts, reaching for Lincoln's back when blaring loud gunfire splays down on them from above the door.

Lincoln's arms jut out, yanking both Arkers to the ground to duck behind the boulders that were supposed to shield them from the door exploding. Sgt. Miller shouts something, but Myles is already moving and unable to make out his words over the gunshots and her own heartbeat. Tearing the bow and arrow from Lincoln's back, Myles holds the wooden bow awkwardly between the two moveable fingers on her broken hand and brings the arrowhead to the ground to shove her boot down on it.

With the stone arrowhead gone, leaving only the sharpened wood, Myles spins to hold the arrow out behind her. Flames from one of the fire-lit torches licks the tip of the arrow, before a decent chunk of fire catches and the redhead whirls around again. Gripping the bow as tightly as she can, Myles flings her arms up and pauses as her heart jumps to her throat.

Sgt. Miller is squashed in behind what is left of a group of grounders and Ark guards with large metal sheets as shields, making their way to the door. Several have already fallen dead on the ground as rapid, automatic gunfire continues to rain down upon them unceasingly, but a few of the human shield remain standing. Searing hot heat burns her fingers as her wide hazel eyes stare at her friends dad, feeling her skin blister as she hesitates. They don't have any more time to waste, white hot remorse burns hotter than the flames melting her splint as her mind halts on a decision.

"Duck, Sarge!" Myles screams out, letting her arrow fly.

A loud explosion sounds when the arrow hits the canister in the door, shaking the ground beneath her knees and rattling the heavy metal door. Gunfire doesn't pause, not even as a wave of thick heat and excruciatingly loud air ripples through them, knocking them back. All of the human shield is down when hazel eyes look up again, and Myles can't see the Sergeant at all under all of the bodies and burning metal. Huffing in shock, Clarke shoves Myles' limp shoulder excitedly with Sgt. Miller's watch in her hand.

"It worked!" Clarke cheers over the distant ringing in her ears, relief and pride evident on her features. "We had one second left! You did it!"

"Damn good shot," Lincoln praises, but Myles can't tear her eyes away from the pile of bodies that was Sgt. Miller's human shield.

"We need to get to that ridge and take out the shooters," Lexa announces, and Lincoln immediately jumps to his feet to rush towards the ridge. Lexa is on her feet in an instant, yanking the dark skinned man down roughly. "No! You stay with Clarke and Myles. When the shooting stops, you get that door open." Myles turns to her slowly, just as she's turning to the warriors behind them, "gyon au!" **[AN: "Go!"]**

The gunfire is merciless, shooting down half of the group that follows Lexa with precise shoots that spray thick blood everywhere and send bodies sprawling. It's a scene from a gruesome nightmare, Myles decides. Watching these people who believe so strongly and loyally in their leader that even after they've just seen their comrades head get blown off two seconds in front of them, they don't ever hesitate to run after their commander and into battle. Innocent lives lost. Men and women with families gone, just because they trust their leader, and will listen when they say; '_go, die for me_'.

Suddenly, it's quiet, for the first time in almost fifteen minutes, not a single gunshot goes off. Myles' head snaps up and Lincoln follows the movement, before inching up to peek over the boulders. The redhead watches him for a moment, and stands herself as Clarke mumbles out a warning for them both. No more shots come out, but distant cheers are heard and Myles straightens.

"They did it," Myles utters, her tone light and airy as the others around them stand begin to stand.

"Myles, look," Monroe says, and the redhead whips her head to her before following her gaze to the fallen human shield.

One of the metal sheets shifts, as if someone is wriggling under it and Myles breaks into a run to reach it. Her legs are carrying her so fast, when she tries to slow to a stop her boots slide across the dirt, sending her crashing to her knees. Bright hope flutters through her rapidly heaving chest, yanking the ice cold metal sheet up as Monroe stops by her side to help.

"Hey, Sarge," Myles breathes in relief, seeing the man alive. "What's the damage?"

"Make sure he's okay," Clarke calls out behind her, but her good hand is already patting the groaning man down.

"Sergeant Miller," Monroe warns worriedly when the father pulls himself up into a sitting position under two bodies.

"Alright there, Sarge," the redhead shakes her head, sighing at the stubborn man. "Easy does it."

"I'm fine," the sergeant reassures in a rough voice, waving off her hands. "I might need your help with my marksman skills, though."

Hazel eyes flick up to Lincoln and Clarke watching them, and Myles stands up straighter, knowing that the sergeant is alright. The motion gives Lincoln whatever signal he was looking for, because his posture shifts as he shouts over his shoulder.

"Mafta ai op!" Lincoln yells out and red eyebrows pull together as she tries to figure out what he's saying. Monroe helps the sergeant up behind her, and Lincoln starts walking towards them with a dozen of the grounder army following him closely. Flinging his arms out, "tu tayon!" Immediately, a group of grounders swarm towards the door with two long woven ropes that have big metal hooks on the ends of them. "Ge yo ogud na pul klin!" **[AN: "follow me! Two lines! Get ready to pull!"]**

Warriors instantly get to work and quickly the two woven ropes are hooked onto the heavy metal door. Hazel eyes watch them for a moment, before Myles steps back to be out of the way, coming to a stop beside Clarke. Lifting her gun up, Myles aims it at the door.

"Aim your fire on the door," the red haired teen orders the army behind her, never once taking her eyes off of the door.

"Pull!" The group straining to yank on the ropes to the door shout. Grunts and groans erupt into the otherwise silent night air, the tension of the impending battle keeping the warriors silent. "Pull! Pull!"

Finally, after a few minutes of yelling and pulling, the door starts to edge out of the mountain, allowing them a peek inside the sliver that's revealed. Relief and dread prickle at Myles' chest, keeping her veins throbbing with fire and her gun set steadily on the door. Loud cheers scream out from the army behind her and Clarke, but the blonde merely sags in relief before spinning to them.

"Attack!" Clarke screams to the army behind her, "now!"

"Chil yo daun!" Lexa's authoritative voice bellows over the screaming army. **[AN: "Stand down!"]**

The army falls silent as they halt at their leaders command, and hazel eyes turn to the sound of her voice. Her chest constricts painfully, the shock of the sight before them making the arm holding her gun lower slightly and all of the air in her lungs to huff out at once. Lexa stands with the hundred of grounders she disappeared with, coming down from the ridge where they were being shot from, but they're not alone.

Completely lowering her gun, Myles walks up to meet the commander a few seconds before a stunned Clarke follows. A blood soaked Lexa and a very cocky Emerson meet Myles between the two large crowds of grounders, and it's all the confirmation that the redhead needs.

"You made a deal," Myles deadpans, but Lexa's doesn't shift or give away any emotion.

"What is this?" Clarke demands fearfully when she finally joins them.

As if to answer her question, a Ark guardsman shouts out, "Hey, look! They're coming out!"

Clarke looks, but Myles doesn't take her eyes off of Lexa's. In the corner of her eyes, grounders shake and tremble in the scarce white cloth that the mountain men left them with in the harvest chamber. She made a deal to save her people; after all, it's a rescue mission, right? Turning on her heels, Myles breaks eye contact with Lexa to stalk over to Lincoln. The grounder watches the traumatised grounders come out of the door, and turns to the redhead with a hopeful expression that does nothing to lighten the heavy weight sitting on her heart.

If the mountain men made a deal with Lexa to free her people, what does that mean for Bellamy Blake and the delinquents?

"They surrendered," Lincoln beams, quickly engulfing the red haired teen in a relieved hug.

"Not quite," Myles mutters, and Lincoln pulls back in confusion.

"You don't look happy," the grounder drawls out, scanning her hazel eyes. "This is what we wanted, right? A rescue mission?"

Nodding slowly, the redhead locks her worried eyes on his and says lowly, "Lilo, I need you to do something for me."

"Myles," Lincoln cautiously replies, "what's going on?"

"I need you to go with them," Myles supplies evasively, nodding her head towards the army.

Her answer only seems to strengthen the man's concern, "what's happening?"

"It doesn't matter," the red haired teen dismisses, "no matter what, I need you to go with your people."

"You…" the dark skinned man furrows his eyebrows even deeper, "are my people."

"You will always be my people," Myles lifts her hands to rest on his shoulders to show him her sincerity. "You could call me every horrible name to ever exist, you could hate me more than anything else, you could do nothing but hurt me and try to kill me, you will _always_ be my people." Flicking her honest hazel between his two dark eyes, "just like you will always be Octavia's people, and Clarke's people, and Bellamy's people. You will always be our people. I need you to go with them, and remember that you will always have us, no matter what. Leaving won't change that."

"Wait," Lincoln falters, "you're not leaving with the army?" Myles shakes her head, tearing her eyes away from his for the first time since she walked over. "Why not? They surrendered." Lincoln casts his dark eyes over to the grounders stumbling out of the large metal door, and his shoulders tense. "Why are there no sky people leaving?"

"It doesn't matter, Lilo," Myles replies, locking her sad eyes back on his. Lincoln's expression darkens and he shifts his gaze to the commander and Clarke arguing. Tightening her grip on the man's shoulders doesn't stop him from circling around her, his sights set on the commander. "Lilo, stop," the redhead begs, sliding her good hand down his arm to hook into his elbow and tug him to a stop. Lincoln snaps his head back to her, "I'm trying to save your life."

"What are you talking about?" Lincoln quizzes, but the look on his face tells Myles he already knows the answer.

Swallowing, Myles smiles sadly, "you will always be our people, but if you don't leave with them…" the redhead trails off to scan her eyes over the army welcoming their wounded people. "I can't promise you the same thing for them."

"Okay," Lincoln relents after a moment, nodding and gently grasping her hands to squeeze them for a short moment.

And then he's gone. Myles barely had time to blink before he took advantage of her hands no longer holding him still to spin around and approach Clarke and Lexa, Emerson nowhere in sight anymore. Sighing in defeat, Myles lifts her broken hand to her head, feeling the harsh, partially melted material of her splint scratch at her red hair. Quiet words are exchanged, but the commanders rigid posture doesn't shift once.

Lincoln's whole body deflates in grief, and Myles crouches down to the ground, before kicking her legs out and sitting on the cold dirt in front of the metal door. Monroe and Sgt. Miller approach behind Lincoln, just as he juts forward to plead with Lexa. Something Lexa says makes him still, and then the door slowly shuts. Every last one of the grounders in Mount Weather is freed, but the Arkers; they'll all die. Each and every last one of their friends will be drilled into until there's nothing left of them to keep them alive.

Turning her head away from the commander and Lincoln, Myles stares at the shut door. Painful memories of her two best friends and Bellamy make her heart ache and quiver, leaving her left arm jittering. One of the grounders blows into a foghorn. Two notes, the first short and the second long and drawn out.

The retreat signal. Hazel eyes fall shut in defeat, listening as the tone is blown again. Octavia flashes through her mind next, there's no way she'll retreat and leave her brother behind. Thinking of the Blake sibling and the few Arkers that were brave enough to go down there being stuck, alone, in the Reaper tunnels makes the redhead open her eyes and look at Lincoln again. Lexa says something else Lincoln doesn't like, and he starts to back up.

Grounders close in around him, gripping at his arms harshly and he fights back. Myles jumps to her feet, barreling towards them at the sight. Lincoln smashes his elbow back into one of the men's necks and Myles yanks on the arm of the other warrior. Turning to the stunned man, Lincoln punches him in the face as Myles ducks from the warriors machete. Swiping her leg under his, Myles knocks the man down and grips his head to bash it into her knee with the momentum of him falling.

Another two warriors come up, but Myles and Lincoln are ready. Lincoln knees one in the stomach as Myles jolts backwards to avoid a fist and flings her arm up to hook around his. Twirling her body to press her back into his, the man's arm makes a sickeningly loud pop as he screams loudly. A pair of arms wraps around Myles midsection when the warrior falls to his knees, and the redhead panics. Flailing her body around and kicking her legs up to try and send herself backwards over her restrainers shoulder and crashing into the ground, before he speaks.

"Myles!" Sgt. Miller shouts in her ear, and Myles stops fighting the kind arms around her. "Myles! Stop! You can't help him, you'll only get yourself killed!"

"They'll kill him," Myles retorts loudly, feeling her feet finally hit the ground again.

All of the adrenaline pumping through her veins leaves her all at once, and her whole body sags against Sgt. Miller before crumpling to her knees. Lincoln is barely conscious and being dragged away by two grounders, three more flanking them. Myles doesn't even know if she's breathing, she can't feel anything more than the pain squeezing her heart, the comforting hands on her shoulders and the cold, hard ground under her legs.

"May we meet again," Lexa whispers from her spot beside Clarke, not having moved an inch during the theatrics.

The commanders crunching footsteps walk away from her, multiplying before eventually fading into obscurity as all of the grounders retreat.

Myles is standing directly in front of the door to Mount Weather, willing it to open and the Arkers inside to walk out, unharmed. The minutes her eyes have been stuck to the metal vault have blurred together, and the redhead has no idea how long she's been standing here, brewing in her own bitter resentment. Their backup power is on now, the white rectangular lights taunting her intoxicatingly. Cogs grind in her tired mind, refusing to accept defeat; refusing to accept that she's failed everyone she loves.

"Myles," Sgt. Miller sighs sadly, and the redheads eyebrows sink down. "Come on. We gotta go."

"No," Myles whispers to herself, too quiet for any of the Arkers behind her to hear.

"Aggie," Clarke tries cautiously, stepping up to stand beside the teen. "We'll come back. We just need reinforcements."

"Myles," Monroe calls out softly, her voice filled with apologies. "It's over. I'm sorry. Not even the Ghost could do this alone."

"They'll kill them all," the redhead mutters lowly, not taking her eyes off of the metal door. "The second we leave, they'll have guards posted out here. We'll never make it this close again."

Sighing heavily, Clarke looks from the door back to Myles before saying, "there's nothing here to wait for."

Red eyebrows quirk up in determination, before Myles turns her face slowly to meet Clarke's worried blue eyes.

"It's not over yet," the redhead replies, a dark smirk growing on her face.

Clarke's face brightens, her posture straightening in excitement, "you have a plan?"

"A really bad one," Myles answers, spinning on her heels and stalking east. "One that will definitely kill us, and probably not work at all." Turning her head to lock her sparkling hazel eyes on Clarke following her, "you in?"

"I don't think we have a choice," Clarke mutters following her red haired friend diligently.

"My sentiments exactly," the redhead agrees, lifting up her good hand with a playful smirk. An amused, yet exasperated look cloaks the blondes face, before she plops her own hand on top of Myles'. Sgt. Miller and Monroe move to follow them, calling out to them as the two girls walk in the opposite direction of Camp Jaha and Myles squeezes Clarke's hand, tipping her head in an antagonising manner. "Now run."


	17. Chapter 16 - Blood Must Have Blood (pt2)

Their harsh panting breaths is the only sign of other humans in the dark abyss they find themselves in, their hasty steps stumbling over uneven terrain and rodents. Myles' splint covered broken hand runs along the hard dirt and jagged stone wall as her exhausted body pushes her legs to just keep running, feeling her long red ponytail slap against her back and neck. Lights are scarce, the few fire lit torches having either burnt out entirely or been taken by the army that retreated almost two hours ago. It's cold and dark, their frantic breaths and rushed steps bouncing off of the walls and echoing back at them.

Shadows bend and twist in her exhausted eyes, taking shapes of things and people she knows aren't there. Myles knows that bright blue eyes filled with loathing aren't scattered around the darkness, she knows his breathing doesn't float through the air with theirs. Yet, her stressed and sleep deprived mind won't let him go away, he's _everywhere_. Still, the painful and desperate pounding of her heart keeps her left hand scraping against the wall, tempting whatever may lurk in the pitch blackness around them.

Suddenly, her splint stops scratching along the wall, her arm ceasing it's random jolting from the uneven and rough tunnel, and her whole body falls into the open air as her two moveable fingers touch nothing but cold air. Myles' boots try to slow down sloppily, a feeble attempt to stay on her feet.

"Left," Myles pants immediately, and the redhead can hear Clarke change course as her splint finds the wall again.

They continue on, only skittering rodents, the distant squawks of bats and insects to keep their pounding boots and loud breaths company in the dark tunnels before Clarke speaks.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Clarke huffs into the darkness after Myles directs them left again, the blonde sticking close to the other wall.

"_Now_ you're doubting me?" Myles asks sarcastically, thinking about how long they've been in these stupid fucking tunnels trying to get to the harvest chamber door. "I've spent the past eleven days staring at Lilo's map. Right, left, right, right, straight, left, straight, left, left, right, straight, round the bend."

"So we're almost there?" Clarke reiterates, a light lilt of relief in her voice from the red haired teens assured tone.

"Yeah," the redhead puffs out, "next turn is on your side. Let me know when the wall disappears, then it's a relatively straight shot. Hopefully the lights by the door turned on with the back up generator, so we don't run into the wall."

Sure enough, the right wall opens up after another few minutes of running in the frigid darkness, and both teens book it even faster down the tunnel. Myles keeps her splint scraping along the wall, just in case she's wrong about the maze's layout. Several agonising minutes pass, and then the dull shine of bright white lights bleed around a bend in the tunnel up ahead. Hazel eyes can almost see Clarke when they look to her now, the pitch blackness giving way to the tiny shreds of light that reaches them and allowing her to see her blonde haired friends outline.

Clarke looks back at her, and the gradually increasing lights showcase the mildly relieved expression mirrored on both of their faces. The eery silence that echoes back at them is louder than their loud, hasty movements and it quickly hardens Myles' relief to dread. Looking back down the tunnel, the closer they get to the bend, the more anxious the redhead becomes.

What if the team down here retreated, and left Octavia alone with the Reapers and the mountain men? What if the team never got a chance to withdraw because the mountain men found them? The most pressing worry the red haired teen has had to do with the mountain men keeps changing and evolving, morphing into new nightmares.

It had started out as for herself, thinking all of her friends were dead and she was all alone while being tortured in the mountain. Then, it became Clarke, finding her in the horrific mountain and being scared for her. That quickly branched out to the grounders, hundreds of them, weak and in pain, terrified, and kept in small cages with only small white underwear to keep them warm in the freezing cold air. The extent of her friends trapped in the mountain hadn't registered until a bit later, too consumed with saving who she can and escaping the pain, knowing she couldn't help them then.

And then, it was Bellamy. Sending in Bellamy Blake was a decision that haunted her long before the option was voiced between them. It's exactly what the Ghost would've done, if her body had been unharmed and not a drastic hinderance. Now, though, the worry reaches even further. The concern for the grounders has entirely left her mind, instead being replaced with the Arkers. After all, why go after the temporary healing properties of grounder blood, when Arker bone marrow can _cure_ you?

Mount Weather will never stop, if the 48 Arkers in that mountain aren't enough to cure all of their people, they'll do everything they can to get their hands on more. They have missiles and technology to turn ordinary people into cannibalistic monsters, what's stopping them from wiping out everyone near their mountain that might want revenge?

"_The surface is our birthright," Doctor Tsing proclaims to Cage, the two standing between a bench against the wall and the cold metal table Myles is strapped down on with thick metal cuffs. "This will proceed whether Dante agrees or not."_

Myles' paranoid thoughts come to an end abruptly when they begin to round the bend in the tunnel. Both teens abandon their spots feeling along the walls to run closer to the mine-cart tracks now that they can see, but the once relieving bright white lights on the ceiling no longer inspire hope. It feels very vulnerable, charging up to the enemies land, walking right under their bright lights and illuminating themselves for anyone and everyone to see. Her worst fears are made a reality when they are almost completely around the bend, and both teens skid to a stop as panic blooms in their chests at the sight of a weapon greeting them.

Panic quickly begins to fade, but it doesn't go away completely, continuing to pump hotly through her veins. Octavia Blake is before them, and the angry brunette freezes when her deep brown eyes land on the two teens instead of whatever threat she thought she was about to be confronted with. The large, sharp blade is still pointed at them for a short moment before the dark brown haired girl reaches back to put it back in its sheath and her arm falls limply by her side.

She's all alone, not a single living soul, besides the two girls now with her, anywhere in sight. Octavia is still covered in black war paint, her hair braided back in the grounder warriors signature braids, and her expression is as bitter as it was hours and hours ago.

"O," Myles breathes in a bittersweet mix of panic and relief.

"Octavia," Clarke greets airily, her voice overlapping with her red haired friends but the brunette is already turning away with a sour expression on her face.

"I thought you'd stay," the redhead expresses in a heavy breath, her lungs still burning from all of the running they've just done.

"Screw you," Octavia snaps, not turning around and staying frozen in her spot, facing the door. Myles takes a hesitant step forward, and the brunette whips around to face them. "Of course I stayed. I know where my loyalties lie."

As the Blake sister speaks in her snippy tone, the teen walks up to Clarke and Myles with infuriated eyes. Clarke shifts nervously behind Myles, but the redhead knows they don't have time, and rushes forward.

"We need to get in there," Myles informs her quickly, her steps as rapid as her heartbeat before she's yanked to a stop by a harsh grip on her arm.

Myles twists her head around to see Octavia's hand gripping her arm tightly, "If that was possible, do you think I'd still be out here?"

The Blake sibling marches forward with her in tow for a few steps before halting suddenly. Hazel eyes follow her pointed deep brown gaze into the large metal mine-cart under the chute she had left Mount Weather in with Clarke and Anya. Myles freezes, her whole body going rigid at the sight. Clarke steps up tentatively beside the other two Arkers, and takes a sharp breath of air in.

Fox lays dead in the mine-cart with her eyes still held wide open, the angry and gruesome holes in her flesh mimicking the painful ones littered about Myles' body. None of them have been tended to in the slightest, dark red blood streaking over her filthy and broken body. The dead Arker isn't the only one in the cart, and Myles isn't sure what she's hallucinating, and what's actually there.

Anya and Finn's bodies lay crumpled in with Fox's, looking exactly the same as the day Myles had last seen them. Instead of wearing the scarce white underwear Mount Weather has left Fox in, Anya and Finn are fully dressed. Anya wears the thick and fur-covered clothes they had both stolen from a pile of grounder clothes and Finn is decked out in clothes from the Ark. Simple, washed out dark jeans, his worn and tattered light brown shirt and his blue puffy jacket, his brown hair is short, like Raven had cut it.

Unlike Fox's vacant eyes, both of their eyes are on Myles, and the redhead can't help but feel as if guilt is eating her away like a bucket of acid was poured over her. It's the sleep deprivation, Myles assumes, and the knowledge of it not being real doesn't make the two disappear. Anya's eyes are blank and glassy, dead, but Finn's are bright and alive, blinking every so often. His body doesn't shift or move, the only signs of him being alive are the fluttering of his eyes.

Octavia snaps her head to the two girls beside her, but Myles doesn't meet her eyes. Hazel eyes look up, determination gleaming in her glassy and exhausted gaze as her grinding mind tries to weigh the possibility of her climbing up the chute. Clenching her jaw silently, Octavia finally speaks again.

"Why did Lexa sound the retreat?" Octavia demands, her voice cold and accusing as she allows her grip to slip from Myles' arm.

Clarke looks to the angry brunette, but Myles only huffs and walks away from them to approach the door. Neither teen follows her for a moment as Clarke answers.

"She made a deal with Mount Weather," the blonde supplies in a detached tone, "freed the grounders. Now we're on our own."

Myles reaches the door and stops directly in front of it, staring at it for a moment before raising both hands and banging on the door. Her left hand makes a sharp and harsh sound, her hard splints pounding echoing loudly compared to the dull thuds of her right hand. Two hands grip her tightly, tugging her roughly away from the door.

"Stop," Octavia seethes, looking at Myles like she'd grown a second head. "They'll know we're here."

"Good," Myles replies dully, pulling her gun out from her waistband.

"This is your plan?" Clarke enquires, worried confusion clouding her features.

Myles doesn't answer, merely quirks her brows and tips her head jerkily to say, 'we're fucked either way'. Rubbing and tapping her slender fingers on her gun anxiously, she breathes loud and deep breaths as she steps backwards. Hazel eyes stay locked on the door, waiting for something to happen while Octavia looks at her with squinted eyes.

"What about Lincoln?" Octavia questions after a short moment of watching Myles bounce impatiently. Swallowing, the redhead flicks her worried eyes to the Blake sister fleetingly. "There's no way he'd have gone along with this."

"He didn't," Myles confirms evasively, her voice tight as her gaze shifts to the lit up keypad beside the door.

"They took him," Clarke falters, her distressed tone adding to the redheads unease and Myles lifts her right hand.

Octavia sees the movement, and shoves Myles' gun away from the keypad aggressively, "what's wrong with you?"

"I am getting through that door if I have to climb through that chute," Myles vows in a harsh tone.

"Oh," Octavia sneers sarcastically, "and that's your great master plan?" Desperate hazel eyes lock on the brunettes frustrated deep brown eyes, "Bellamy's counting on you. Everyone's always counting on you!"

"What do you want from me?" Myles yells back, her red eyebrows pulling together.

"You trusted Lexa," the Blake sister accuses in a quiet voice, "you let a bomb drop on Tondc. You let all those people – "

"We are doing the best we can!" Clarke explodes tearfully, her shrill voice echoing in the tunnels around them.

Octavia's deep brown eyes switch between them, saying in a low tone, "well, it's not good enough."

"You think," Myles heaves wetly, keeping her eyes locked on the furious Blake siblings. "That I don't know that?" Octavia's face doesn't shift, and the redhead steps closer to her to try and convey the sincerity and self hatred that courses through her veins with her shaky voice. "I knew Glenn and Pat's families," at the brief flash of confusion in Octavia's eyes, "the two who died in the dropship during the landing. I see them when I close my eyes."

"I see Trina being so excited to make that stupid fucking plant chart with Miss. Wallis in grade three," the redhead croaks, gesturing wildly and deep brown eyes soften ever so slightly. "I see Pascal being so smitten with her that he pretended to like cooked fox, even though he fucking _hated_ the taste of it. I see Atom greeting me every time he was there for a drop off, and he would always give me some stupid drawing of a robot on my hand as a thank you."

Octavia's face clouds over with something unrecognisable, and she slowly pulls her head back in shock, but Myles keeps going.

"I know the names and faces of every person we've lost," the red haired teen babbles wetly, "I know the names and faces of every single one of our people in that mountain." Myles points angrily at the door with the hand holding her gun. "I know most of their parents. I know which ones had tents and which ones slept in the dropship. I see the faces and hear the screams of the grounders we fought and burned at the dropship; of the people who were bombed in Tondc."

Heaving a heavy breath, Myles finishes, "I don't know what more you fucking want from me. I'm not a leader, I'm not anyone!"

Clarke's hands had started rubbing on Myles' shoulder and back at some point during her outburst, but the feeling of her comforting motions isn't felt until now. Octavia stares at the flustered red haired teen for a moment, watching as she pants rapid and wet breaths, and takes in the heavy bags under her glassy eyes. Red eyebrows sit high in a worried frown, making the one wrinkle in her forehead deepen dramatically.

"What do we do now?" Octavia says eventually, her voice low but no longer angry.

Huffing, Myles brings both her hands to her head and glances around them before stopping on the chute. Sighing, hazel eyes snap back to the brunette and she opens her mouth to answer her when the metal doors in front of them beeps. Octavia spins around and Clarke edges backwards in surprise but Myles brings her gun down from the top of her head to point at the door. Hazel eyes harden, preparing for the fight that's about to walk out of those doors.

Taking rapid steps forward as the doors begin to open, her whole body freezes in shock at the sight of Bellamy Blake. The Blake brother has one hand on the door, the other on a gun that's pointed at Octavia, who's hand is frozen on the handle of the machete strapped on her back. He's wearing a mountain man's guards uniform, the long sleeved white shirt under the tan coloured padding with pockets for weapons is dirty and has holes worn into it.

Bellamy stops in the doorway and Octavia rushes up to him as Myles' whole body sags. An overwhelming fluttering feeling overtakes her body as she lowers her gun and the pressing need to break down floods her senses again.

"Bellamy," Octavia breathes, wrapping her arms around her brother tightly.

Bellamy quickly reciprocates the hug, but his deep brown eyes find Myles' straight away and stay on her hazel. Seeing _that _look in his eyes, that loving, adoring look releases a weight on the redheads chest that she hadn't even realised had found a home there.

"Aggie!" Jasper calls, bolting through the door and swallowing the red haired teen up in a hug.

Myles' view of Bellamy is obstructed by one of her best friends as her name is echoed by Monty, and his arms wrap around her tightly as well. The jolt of Monty joining their hug full-force knocks the three of them back, and Myles' hazel eyes can see Bellamy still watching her when he comes back into view. Monty's arms stiffen, before lifting up to frame her head and hold her still but Myles keeps her arms around her best friends.

"What the hell happened to you?" Monty demands, his dark eyes checking the holes in her temples from Doctor Tsing's drills.

"Thank god you're okay," Jasper whispers shakily, refusing to loosen his grip on his best friend. "We were so worried."

"Me, too," Myles sighs out with a light smile, pulling back from Jasper's hug to try and look over her best friends. They're both wearing different clothes; Monty in a light blue button up shirt that's covered in blood and Jasper in a dark blue denim button up shirt. Bringing her splint-covered hand up to Monty's shoulder, her hazel eyes sweep his body worriedly. "Are you two okay?"

Jasper edges back to check Myles over and let her make sure that he's okay, when Bellamy surges forward. His muscular arms wrap around her waist tightly and he lifts her feet off of the ground to twirl her around once. Myles giggles, a proper, real _happy_ sound she hasn't made since he left over a week ago. Her arms around his neck hold him to her as tightly as he holds her, and Myles can almost hear Octavia greeting Monty and Jasper beside them over the sound of Bellamy's heartbeat and his relieved sigh.

"I missed you," Bellamy whispers in her ear softly when he sets her feet back on the ground.

Myles shifts her face against his, keeping their skin pressed together and brings her lips to his. Bellamy falls into her sweet kiss, letting her have control first before diving in for his own. It's short and full of passion, electrifying their veins and rattling their bones. The kind of kiss that feels like it transports you to another dimension, nullifying everything around you until you're completely consumed with the soft, oily feel of each other's skin and the delicate hot breaths of air you share.

"I knew it," Octavia jokes dully as Myles pulls away to hug Bellamy close again, "you two are too scrawny to drill."

A hand is felt on her arm, and the redhead doesn't have to look to know it's Clarke standing behind Bellamy. Opening her hazel eyes and allowing herself to rejoin the world around them, Myles sees a new face. A girl stands in the doorway wearing one of the mountain men's light blue hazmat suits, her black eyebrows a stark contrast to her pale face. Octavia's eyes land on the new girl a second after Myles' do, and the brunette tenses, stepping away as her hand twitches over her weapon.

"It's alright," Jasper soothes with a smile, stepping closer to the girl and Myles knows exactly who she is now.

"She's with us," Myles adds, pulling away from Bellamy but keeping the hand holding her gun resting against his arm. "It's nice to finally meet you, Maya."

Maya opens her mouth to reply, but it's Bellamy's worried voice that cuts through the air, "where's your army?"

Dread pumps through Myles blood, "just like yours. Gone."

"Please say you have a plan," Clarke's voice is bordering on pleading, and the jump back to panic from relief makes Myles' tired mind spin.

"Clarke," Jasper calls, surging forward to hug her, which she quickly reciprocates.

"Not really," Bellamy regretfully informs them as Monty joins the hug between Jasper and Clarke.

"Wait," Monty interjects, pulling out of the hug. "What do you mean both armies are gone?"

"Lexa made a deal," the blonde haired teen explains, and the group stare at her, everyone hanging onto her every word, except for Myles.

The words ring in the redheads mind and her eyebrows pull together in thought. 'Lexa made a deal'.

"_We're running out of time," the urgent man, Cage, insists. "Do whatever extractions you can now, and finish your exploratory butchering after we run another trial. I need a guarantee that this will work to get the others and my father on board."_

Cage is persistent and narrow minded in his beliefs, unable to see more than what's right in front of him. He took control from his father, the president, because Dante refused to use the delinquents for their bone marrow.

"_Then whats our options?" Cage presses eagerly, "you said they're the cure. Their blood doesn't allow for survival on the surface, but it can heal them. Will an organ transplant keep them alive long enough to return home? Keep some of them alive to use their blood to heal what the organs can't?"_

"_That's why I want to do a marrow extraction," Doctor Tsing elaborates, "it's the body's source of its blood. If we perform a marrow transplant, the patient will start making the same blood the host does."_

"_Okay," Cage replies, looking frustrated. "And why the hell haven't we done that already?"_

How does a man who's so hellbent on his own agenda, his own beliefs, that he's willing to sacrifice everything, cocky enough to throw out his own father, so set in his own mind that he demands a change in the course of the exploratory medical procedures, who would rather send snipers and missiles to eliminate the enemy; how does he have the foresight to set his ego aside enough to offer a _deal _to the enemy?

Realisation dawns on the red haired teen, her face relaxing as she whispers out loud, "'_the surface is our birthright_'."

"What?" Octavia asks, shaking her head slightly with a baffled expression.

Hazel eyes slowly slip up to meet Clarke's blue, and both of her best friends brighten considerably.

"That – I know that face," Jasper relays quickly, pointing at Myles and crouching down slightly, only to straighten with excitement.

"We love that face," Monty agrees with rapid words, his best friends excitement rubbing off on him.

"That's her plan face," her brown haired best friend continues, pointing enthusiastically when everyone else just stares in confusion.

"That's her I'm-gonna-save-the-day plan face," her black haired best friend explains in a rush, gently shoving Jasper and Myles' shoulders with relieved happiness.

Myles tears her gaze away from Clarke's to search out Maya's. The beautiful black haired girl is standing not too far from them, patiently waiting and standing there awkwardly, as if she's not too sure what she's supposed to be doing. Even though she's close, Myles still hastily steps in front of her.

"Hey, Maya," Myles quickly inquires, "do you have any idea where Dante is?"

"Dante?" Bellamy questions behind her, but the redheads full attention is on the teen in front of her.

"Uh…" Maya hesitates, "he should still be in quarantine."

"Thanks," the red haired teen breathes, circling around her to reach the door.

"Wh – Aggie!" Clarke calls and Myles whips around to face the eagerly awaiting group. "What's the plan?"

"We need to get to Dante," the red haired teen answers instead, and just as she's about to turn around again, Maya's hazmat suit starts beeping.

Jasper rushes forward to check it, but Myles can guess that the low tone of the beeps can only mean trouble. Worried hazel eyes glance from the girl Jasper is clearly smitten with to lock on Bellamy's concerned deep brown gaze. Swallowing sorrowfully when her eyes land back on Jasper, her best friends expression proves her gut was right.

"Thirty minutes," Jasper whispers, snapping his head to look from the oxygen tank to Maya's face in panic. "We – we just changed it. That can't be right." Jasper straightens and wraps his hands around her arms, shifting on his feet nervously. "Uh… sh – um… it's her last tank."

"That's okay," Myles tries to calm them both down, "we'll get you a new one."

"Yeah," Clarke agrees, walking up to Myles and Maya. "There has to be another one."

"All the supplemental oxygen is on Level Five," Maya's shaky voice informs the two girls, and Myles and Clarke's eyes lock on each others.

According to the maps, Level Five has the kitchens, mess hall and almost half of the residences – making it the most logical place to evacuate the people of Mount Weather to in the case of a power outage, or an army blowing up your front door.

"Then we have to get you to Level Five," Jasper immediately decides, and his panicked face squeezes hard at Myles' heart.

"Five isn't safe," Maya reminds him as Monty and Myles check her tank for themselves, "for any of us."

"We'll take the trash chute again," the brown haired boy decides, "it'll work."

"To get in maybe," Bellamy's deep voice cautions behind Myles. "But Maya's right, every solider in this mountain is there. We'll never make it out."

"We can do this," Jasper whispers, his brown eyes wide and face pale. Red eyebrows turn up in a worried frown, frightened for her best friend as he looks to Monty. "We'll split up."

"Okay," Octavia agrees, looking between them, "you guys go for Dante. We'll help Maya."

The second the words are out of her mouth, the Blake sister is storming forward to the door and yanking her machete out of its sheath on her back. Locking her hazel eyes on Bellamy's, Myles tips her head and quirks her eyebrows with a look of hesitant determination on her face. They all walk through the door one by one and Bellamy shuts it tightly behind them.

It's now or never.

Myles stands beside Clarke and Bellamy, the two bouncing on their heels nervously as they wait for Monty to finish taking out the cameras from the electrical junction box. Hazel eyes sweep around the hallways, keeping her back close to the wall, deciding that Bellamy and Clarke anxious fidgeting is enough for the three of them. Everything is pristine and proper, photographs and paintings line the clean, off-white walls. They're on Level Three, and not a soul is in sight, but that does nothing to squash the paranoid fear they have of being found. After all, there are mountain men who are cured now.

"Alright," Monty huffs, lowering his arms and relaxing his posture before quickly making his way to the other three. "I got it. We're good to go."

Both Bellamy and Myles are already walking towards the quarantine room doors before he's finished, and only one of them is open. Every door is completely shut, except for the fourth door on their right, and Myles' gut can almost guess why he would choose to stay in quarantine, even though he's not locked in. Turning into the room, an elderly man sits on the edge of the bed, facing the wall to the Arkers left.

Much like every other mountain man they've seen, his skin is strikingly pale, almost as white as his hair from lack of sunlight. Dozens of paintings are scattered amongst his small room, hanging on walls and sitting on the ground, leaning up against the walls. An easel with paints and brushes sits in front of him, but his faded and splotchy light blue button up shirt is clean of paint. When she enters, he stands and watches as her steps slow to a stop just past the doorway. His blue eyes jump from her to Monty and Bellamy, before landing on Clarke.

"Hello, Clarke," Dante says after a moment, his deep voice wobbling slightly, but his tone is strong.

"Sir," Bellamy interjects respectfully, "we need your help again."

The old man stares at him, but doesn't make a move to speak and Myles raises a red eyebrow in challenge.

"It's okay," Monty assures, "I took out the camera from the junction box in the hall. We can talk freely."

"No one's watching anyway," Dante dismisses with slow words, before locking his blue gaze on Myles, causing her left arm to jitter. The man stands gingerly, as if he felt weak and shaky on his feet. "Thanks to you, they're all on Level Five."

"You're not," Myles replies, her voice hard but not tainted by accusation.

"No…" Dante drawls out, "I'm not."

"Please," Bellamy implores, but the older man doesn't shift his gaze from the redhead, "we don't have much time. We need a way to get our people out of this mountain without killing everyone."

"It's no use, Bell," Myles answers, maintaining the old man's eye contact. "He's not gonna help us."

"We underestimated you," Dante informs her, his voice wobbly and drawled out, "my son thought it was Clarke, but I knew."

"Then you know why I'm here," the redhead reasons, her eyes never once shifting from his blue.

"Yes," the old man confirms blandly, and Monty shifts on his feet in the corners of her eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Monty asks, a worried lilt to his voice.

"When they grabbed us from the dropship," Clarke explains dully, "and brought us here to you, they also had Aggie."

Monty's shock can be felt across the room, but it's Dante who speaks next, "when my people found you… you had a hole the size of my fist in your stomach." The man raises his hand to demonstrate half heartedly, "your leg was sliced open so badly, you couldn't see muscle, only bone."

"They weren't going to pick you up, did you know that?" Myles doesn't answer Dante's question, doesn't let her face shift at all through his words, but her arm doesn't stop trembling. "They didn't think you'd survive the trip here, and they were going to put you out of your misery." The old man lifts his hands dramatically as he continues speaking slowly, "and then, you were up on your feet. My men were armed with guns, tranquillisers and knock-out gas… and you were barely clinging to life when you killed three of my men that day."

"Held your breath and ran," Dante continues, lifting his chin, "do you even know… how far you ran before the fourth round of knock out gas finally got you?" Myles doesn't answer as her arm shakes violently but she doesn't need to, the question clearly being rhetorical. Bellamy keeps shifting on his feet, edging closer to his girlfriend, as if he could protect her from the memories Dante's words threaten to bring to the surface. "And then we almost bled you of the last drops of blood you had the moment you were brought in here. Three days we kept you here, without any food or water, and we cut you up into pieces. Drilled into your skull and took pieces of your brain."

"Your heart stopped," the man tells her, and red eyebrows quirk in surprise. The air in the room is stale and tense from Dante's words, the reality of what Myles had gone through being felt by them all. "Mm, yes… three minutes and twenty seconds… you didn't have a heartbeat. My doctors decided to stop brutalising you to allow you to recuperate, and what did you do? You broke your own bones to free yourself of our restraints and killed our doctor. You broke Clarke and a savage out of this mountain, took them through the tunnels with the Reapers and successfully beat four of our elite military units… all while you were on the brink of death. After being starved of food and water and tortured for days."

"Then you should know," Myles restates, "better than to underestimate me."

"Help us," Bellamy requests, his voice tight with emotion. "You never wanted any of this, you never believed the kids should be treated like that."

Dante barely spares him a glance before his eyes are back on Myles', his voice wobbling out, "you cut the power, risking the lives of everyone in this mountain, my people…"

"And we both know," the red haired teen replies, cutting off his slow words, "the lengths you'll go to, to protect them, don't we, Dante?"

"You risked even the ones who helped you," the old man finishes once the redhead stops talking, and Clarke shakes her head.

"We knew they'd be safe on Level Five," the blonde refutes, and Dante's eyes flash with something Myles' tired mind doesn't recognise straight away.

While she doesn't recognise the look immediately, Myles instantly recognises that she can use it. Stepping forward slowly, keeping her posture slouched predatorily, the redhead uses her words to tap into the man's shocked expression.

"We made sure not to completely destroy the turbines," Myles informs him, "to make sure you could repair them. We're the ones trying to be the good guys here, you're the one killing us."

"Tell me," Dante needles after a short moment, his eyes stormy. "If we released your people and theirs… what would have happened to mine?"

"We could have offered it," Myles relays after a moment of holding his stare. At his taken aback expression, she continues, "the marrow. We had twelve stations on the Ark, all filled with people that came down. Plenty of people, enough to donate one piece of bone marrow each, under proper conditions, with consent, anaesthetic and clean instruments. No one had to suffer, no one has to die."

"I'm afraid," Dante starts, "it's a bit too late for that. Just like it's too late for me to help you anymore."

Clenching her jaw, Myles ignores the shaking of her arm and turns to her now pale best friend, "Greenie, can you get us into the command centre?"

"We need to see what's happening on Level Five," Clarke seconds, looking between the two of them.

"Yeah, of course, Aggie," Monty immediately breathes stepping towards her and gently guiding her out of the room with a delicate hold on her arm and back, as if she was still as hurt and broken as the day she left this mountain. "No problem."

"Let's go," Bellamy's gruff voice demands, reaching for Dante roughly and tugging him harshly to the door. "You're gonna help us whether you like it or not."

Myles goes first, peeking around the corner with her gun out and in her good hand. Clarke is only a second behind her, her gun coming into sight every few seconds. Monty sticks close to the redheads side, his hand on her shoulder and his side pressed against hers is a welcomed comfort. Bellamy man's the rear with his gun out, making sure Dante doesn't try to make a run for it. The redhead isn't too worried of the old man trying to slip loose, she knows that he knows what kind of threat she posed when she was weaponless, her having a gun should definitely keep him at bay.

"I told you," Dante's voice drawls out when the turn the corner, "there's no one here."

Myles quirks a red eyebrow but doesn't turn to the man as Bellamy snarks, "sorry if we don't take your word for it."

"Why aren't you with your people on Level Five?" Clarke asks as they stop at a door with a 'restricted access' sign in it.

Monty instantly gets to work, ducking down to work on the keypad.

"After what I've done," Dante answers slowly, "they can be free. I can't." The keypad comes out of the wall, revealing a dozen differently coloured wires twisting into building. "Deliverance comes at a cost," Myles does turn at those words, but she doesn't hang onto them like Clarke does. Remembering the conversation from the quarantine room, the old man meets Myles' eyes. "I bear it so they don't have to."

Hazel eyes are quickly drawn to Bellamy's sharp features, watching as realisation dawns on him. The same expression from Tondc, when they figured out Gustus had poisoned himself, dawns on his face, and a proud flutter tingles through her chest.

"It wasn't Cage," the Blake brother utters, furrowing his dark brown eyebrows. Dante looks to Bellamy, shock on his face. "It was your idea to make the deal with the grounders."

"Fascinating," Dante wobbles out slowly, locking his eyes on Myles' again. "You figured it out before you came to me, yet… you didn't tell them. Why?"

Myles doesn't answer, instead turning her eyes to Monty as he works on the keypad.

"That's why you wanted Dante," Bellamy says once he connects the dots, "he won't make us a deal like that."

"She knows that," Clarke corrects him, and Myles locks her eyes back onto Dante's for a brief second.

A high pitched series of beeps sounds and Monty looks to them, "we're in. Got 'em."

"Good job, Greenie," Myles praises, as her and Bellamy both lift their guns to point at the door.

Bellamy enters first, pushing the door open with one hand and aiming his gun with the other. His head only moves with his gun, keeping his eyes trained only where his weapon is aimed. Myles is a step behind him, mimicking his skilled actions, and both of them relax at the sight of a completely empty room.

"It's clear," Bellamy calls over his shoulder before grabbing Dante and pulling him in when Myles steps fully into the dark room. "He was telling the truth."

"Can you get the monitors up?" Myles questions Monty as he rushes in and Clarke closes the door behind him.

"Sure can," Monty replies easily, sitting in a chair in front of the computers and tapping away at the keyboard, making the computer light up.

It's tense and quiet for a few moments, only the sounds of Monty tapping and clicking. The four others stand awkwardly in the room, waiting, and Myles doesn't know what to expect as she stares at the dozen black monitors lining the walls. Suddenly, every single monitor sparks to life, some in black and white and others in faded, dull colours.

"The command centre is live," her best friends anxious voice states, his dark eyes now scanning the wall with the others.

Everyone's heads freeze when they land on a monitor to Monty's right. On the screen, two doctors hover over Raven strapped to a table, a drill burring into her right shin. Myles' left arm twitches violently as her stomach drops painfully, looking at her friend. The cameras don't have microphones, but the redhead can still _hear_ the drill whirring and her own pain filled screams. Dozens of people line the walls, their legs being visible on the edges of the screen. In white block letters, the top of the screen says, 'CAM 60 – Level Five', with the date and time stamped on the bottom beside the word 'DORM'.

"Oh, my god," Clarke breathes, and Myles takes a tentative step towards the monitor.

"Is that Raven?" Bellamy's hard voice asks, and the redheads hazel eyes jump to the other monitors with similar names.

"It's everyone," the red haired teen whispers, when Monty shifts one of the cameras around, showing Sgt. Miller, Monroe, Abby, and Marcus with their hands chained above their heads to a wall with the delinquents. "Oh, Marcus."

"Mum," Clarke breathes shakily, getting even closer to the monitor as movement to her left drags Myles' hazel eyes over to see hundreds of people in the mess hall.

Her hazel eyes spark to life when they switch to another mess hall camera, spying Emerson march through the crowd.

_What's a little more blood?_

"Tell them to stop!" Bellamy's angry voice demands, and the redhead turns from the mess hall monitor to see the Blake brother holding a walkie-talkie to the man. Myles quickly strides over to them, knowing the old man won't do it before he even answers, "now!"

"I won't do that," Dante's harsh voice wobbles out, and Myles reaches her hand out to gently pry the device from her boyfriend's grip.

Turning away from them, but keeping Dante to her side, the redhead fiddles with the walkie-talkie in her two moveable fingers on her left hand for a beat. After managing to hold it to her splint with her middle finger, Myles presses the transmit button with her index finger and lifts the walkie to her mouth.

"Carl Emerson," Myles recalls in a dark tone, "Mount Weather Security Detail, come in."

Emerson looks down to his walkie on the monitor before raising it, "who is this?"

"Forgotten me that quick," the red haired teen sneers, "have you? Maybe I should've let my knee talk to you first." Emerson is frozen on the monitor, but people shift around him carelessly. "Give the radio to the president, this message I want to say to him directly."

Immediately, Emerson moves away and out of sight from the camera. Hazel eyes shoot around the monitors, looking for him or Cage to make an appearance.

"They're moving," Bellamy states, and Monty is already tapping away at the computer.

"Not a problem," the black haired teen assures, "I'll bring it on the main monitor."

Sure enough, the giant, monitor in the corner of one wall comes to life, and there he is. The sight of Cage sends shivers down Myles' spine, and jitters through the arm that's holding the walkie. He looks the same as he had when he came to see her and Doctor Tsing, walking out of the mess hall and into an empty hallway with an air of arrogance to him that's felt even through the monitors.

"This is President Wallace," Cage calls over the radio, his voice low.

"I have your father," Myles informs him bluntly, her eyes staying trained on the almost crystal clear image of Cage. Clarke and Bellamy both look to her in the corners of her eyes, but the redhead holds her ground. "If you don't let my people go, I'll kill him."

"How do I know you have him?" Cage asks, his voice cocky and no longer low as Clarke shifts anxiously in front of the dorm monitors.

Holding up the walkie to Dante, the man doesn't hesitate when she presses the button, "stay the course, Cage."

"You won't do it," Cage instantly replies, and Myles is already lifting her gun to point at the old man's head before he's even finished talking, making Monty stand in alarm.

"You clearly don't know me very well," Myles retorts, the exhausted frustration growing more anguished every second that drill is in an Arkers body, and the redhead knows it ends here, one way or another. _One more mistake, one more battle, some more blood_. When Cage doesn't reply, merely holds the radio up to his mouth and stays silent, Myles continues. "This ends now, Cage. Release my people."

"Aggie," Clarke cautiously warns, shifting on her feet in front of the dorm monitors.

"I can't do that," Cage's hard voice refuses, and Myles swallows as her fingers twitch on her gun.

"It would mean the end of our people, Aggie," Dante declares, and red eyebrows twitch.

"What about my people?" Myles debates, shifting her index finger from where it rests on the side of her gun to the trigger.

"Aggie," Bellamy tries to reason, shifting slightly out of the way, as if he knows nothing will stop that desperate look on her delicate features. "We need him."

Hazel eyes glance at him fleetingly, "and I need his son to believe me." Lifting the walkie to her mouth again, her tone is low and dark when she speaks next. "Don't make me do this."

Cage turns on the monitor, glancing at the people behind him in the mess hall. When the man turns back around, his dark brown eyes lock on the camera they're looking at him with. It gives the illusion that he's looking into her eyes, and her left arm shakes.

"Dad," Cage addresses softly after hesitating for a moment, "I'll take care of our people."

Dante's wide eyes slowly turn to Myles, his face a blend of utter terror and shock.

"None of us has a choice here, Aggie," Dante advises, but her right hand stays steady on her gun.

"I didn't want this," the red haired teen pleads with the old man to understand, pressing the transmit button for Cage to hear.

"Neither did I," Dante echoes, and Myles lowers her gun ever so slightly before she squeezes the trigger.

A loud blast sounds through the room, and Dante steps back with a shocked jolt. Hazel eyes are glued to him, keeping her finger on the transmit button as he gasps and splutters. Deep red blood blooms on his chest, and tears fill Myles' eyes while she listens to the old man groan pitifully. High pitched, strained sounds erupt from his throat as she finally lowers her gun.

This is the only way it would ever end, and the thought sends a fresh wave of agony through Myles' sleep deprived body. They would never stop, and if she wants her friends and family to live, neither can she.

Finally, after a long moment of watching the old man struggle noisily, Dante falls to the floor and Myles lifts her finger off of the transmit button. Bellamy, Monty and Clarke are looking at her with pity, and the sight makes her wet eyes harden.

"Aggie," Bellamy calls softly, as Monty's hand gently rubs on her arm when she stalks up to the monitor again.

"Listen to me very carefully," Myles murmurs lowly into the radio, "I will not stop until my people are free. If you don't let every one of them go, I will irradiate Level Five." Cage puts his hand on the wall in front of him, as if to steady himself, and Myles' chest aches, knowing she can't make this an empty promise. The man doesn't reply, just stands with his shoulders slumped and leaning against the wall. "Cage, listen to me. I do not want anyone else to die. No one else has to die, just stop the drilling, and we can talk. There's a way to get us all out of this. We can donate marrow, and it can be done with the proper medical care."

"Oh, Aggie," Clarke breathes, her tone fearful and strained.

Cage doesn't answer, but his mouth moves and Emerson quickly approaches him. They say a few short words, and then Emerson runs off with the walkie, but not before giving the camera a glare.

"Emerson's on his way," Myles states, glancing at Monty, "is there a way to stall him?"

"They deactivated my key card," Bellamy offers quickly, "can you do that to his?"

"That one's easy," Monty answers, instantly sitting back down and working on the computer.

Myles stands behind her best friend, watching him work quietly when Bellamy's low voice draws her attention away.

"Where's he going?" Bellamy asks, watching Cage on the monitor walk back into the mess hall.

Myles steps up beside the Blake brother, her anxious eyes following the man as he makes a straight shot through the people in the mess hall and goes down two different corridors, before it dawns on Clarke.

"The dorm," the blonde haired teens shaky voice supplies, and white, hot pain grips at Myles' heart.

"What did I do?" Myles whispers hoarsely to herself, watching Cage saunter into the dorm where they're drilling into Raven. Bellamy's hand touches her back, and rubs up and down in comforting motions but it does little to extinguish the desperate fear coursing through her veins. "Monty, can you do it?" The redhead presses in a broken voice, abandoning her boyfriends side to stand beside Monty again. "Can you make it so I can irradiate the level if I have to?"

"I can do it," her best friend confirms quietly, looking up at her with wide and sad eyes.

"Myles," Clarke's voice is harder now, the reality of the situation not being lost on her. "What are you doing?"

"Aggie, lets just wait a second," the Blake brother pleads, his eyes wild with fear, "we need to think about this. There are kids in there."

"I know," Myles whispers brokenly, her eyes wet with tears.

"And people who helped us," Clarke adds, sounding as on edge and freaked out as the couple.

"Please, god," the red haired teen begs tearfully, her voice cracking loudly. "Please give me another idea." Bellamy and Clarke both go still and dead silent as Monty looks up at his best friend in pity. "I offered to give it to them willingly, to give them the bone marrow they want, but they want to kill us." Tears start to fall from Myles' eyes, "I don't know what else to do. I don't know what else to do. Tell me what else I can do."

"I can't," Clarke breathes in an equally as wrecked voice while Bellamy turns away, distraught. "I can't."

Suddenly, Raven is roughly taken off of the table and two Mount Weather guards approach Marcus. Myles can feel her heart in her throat, she can feel it throb painfully and her knees become weak. Leaning her hand on the table to keep herself upright, the redhead can only watch as the closest thing she has to a father is torn harshly from the wall and brought over to the table. Marcus fights back, but his wounded body is sluggish and no match for the men holding him down.

"No, please," Myles' shaky voice quietly pleads, watching Marcus be strapped down, before her desperate tone starts to get louder. "Please. Please!"

"Aggie," Bellamy tries to soothe, quickly coming up to her and wrapping his arm around her as Monty stands.

Her best friend doesn't say anything, but his face says it all. Horror, the knowledge that they're going to have to watch Marcus die, without being able to do anything. Emerson is on his way, his goal to kill them, and he's immune. Cage is immune. The irradiation won't effect them, it won't stop them from killing everyone in that room, starting with Marcus.

"Keep working on irradiating the level," Clarke orders gently, coming up to take his place standing with the redhead and rubbing her arms.

"What did I do?" Myles' broken voice questions, "What did I do?"

Wide hazel eyes are staring at the monitor as the drill pierces Marcus' skin. Her heaving, panicking body abruptly goes rigid at the sight, her breathing stopping completely and a pitiful squeak escaping her throat. Bellamy's arms tighten around her and Marcus' mouth is instantly opened wide, and even though the cameras have no microphones, Myles can _hear_ his screams.

"Monty," Myles' hard and detached voice calls after a moment, and Bellamy loosens his grip to be able to look in her vacant eyes.

"Aggie," the Blake brothers voice is pleading, thick and wet, as if seeing Myles like this is killing him inside. "If we do this, there is no going back."

Monty looks up at her, and she meets his eyes to double down, "do it. Please."

Immediately, her best friend is back to work, and when Myles lifts her eyes back to the monitor, Cage is standing over Marcus' screaming and writhing form, staring straight into the camera. Every second that goes by watching Marcus be drilled into is excruciating, and her mind forces her to pay attention, to not look away. It's as if her mind is bored of the old nightmares, and is making her stand here and create a new one.

A part of her exhausted brain thinks that's it. That this is another hallucination, since she hasn't seen her dad in a while. Surely, her mind replaced him with Marcus, and that's why this is happening. Maybe she fell asleep, or died when the men on the ridge were shooting at them, and this is what happens when murderers die. Her own version of hell.

Flashes in the corners of her hazel eyes aren't enough to make her tear her gaze from Marcus, but they are for Bellamy and Clarke. Two people sprint down a corridor, and the Blake brother takes a step towards a different monitor.

"Now what?" Bellamy questions exasperatedly, and his worried tone is the only thing that could make Myles turn her head away from the dorm.

Turning her head to look at the two people running, Myles' stomach drops when she sees Octavia and Maya chasing after them. The two runners must yell out, because three Mount Weather guards appear out of nowhere, and run for the Blake sister. Octavia unsheathes her machete, and throws it into a guards stomach as Maya watches on in shock. When the first man falls to his knees, Octavia slides across the floor to kick out the other's legs.

"Oh, fuck," Myles whispers, her panicked breathing picking up again as the Blake sister fights the guards.

Octavia yanks the machete from the first guards stomach, and slashes the other two deeply, sending them sprawling to the ground. Her and Maya look at each other for a second as they recover from the attack, before there attention is drawn to something behind Maya. Four Mount Weather guards round the corner, sprinting towards them and Bellamy shifts anxiously.

"They gotta get out of there," the Blake brother murmurs worriedly, unable to tear his deep brown eyes away as the guards pull out their guns.

"Come on, O," Myles breathes, watching the two girls run away. "Run. Come on, come on."

The computer Monty's working at beeps, and the sound is immediately followed up by angry, persistent banging on the door to the command centre. All four Arkers whip their heads to stare at the door. They're fucked. Unequivocally fucked. Marcus is dying, soon to be followed by all of their friends. Octavia, Maya and wherever the hell Jasper is are all about to be shot to death, if not strung up to die with the rest of their friends. If they open the door and Emerson is alone, he'll shoot at least one of them before he goes down, and if he brought friends, how long until they force their way in?

Turning around to face the monitor for the hallway outside of the command centre, Myles can see that Emerson is clearly alone as he kicks at the door with a huge automatic rifle in his hands. The sight that he's alone eases some of the tightness around her heart, but it's quickly replaced tenfold by the sight of her other best friend on an adjacent monitor.

"JJ," Myles sighs out, feeling her face twist up in pain, watching one of her best friends be escorted towards the dorms doors.

"They caught him," her best friend mumbles beside her, sounding as pushed to the limit as she feels.

She's about to lose everyone she loves. Everyone she cares about. All of her friends and family. Emerson will kick this door down and shoot them all with an automatic rifle, if he doesn't start trying to shoot through the walls and door. Octavia and Maya will be captured, if they're not killed. Jasper will be drilled into and killed. Marcus is about to die before her very eyes. Monroe, Nate, Sgt. Miller, Abby, Raven, Wick, Harper and whoever from the delinquents is still alive, they're all about to die.

Chaos breaks out in the mess hall. Octavia and Maya were forced to go through there, every other way being blocked off by Mount Weather guards, and her grounder war paint and clothes stick out like a sore thumb. Every guard in the mess hall yanks out their guns as guards swarm the entrances and exits. Residents cower away in fear from Octavia, and tears fill Myles' eyes. They're surrounded, completely and totally surrounded. Easily twenty guards force Octavia and Maya to their knees at gunpoint in the middle of the mess hall.

This is the end, for everyone she loves and cares about. And there's nothing she can do.

Except, there is. This is it, Myles realises. This is the 'if I have to'.

The room abruptly goes silent, barring their panicked and heavy breaths, and it takes Myles a moment to realise Monty and Emerson have both stopped. Teary hazel eyes turn to him, only to find his sad dark eyes already looking at her.

"Why are you stopping?" The red haired teens weak voice asks.

"Because I did it," Monty replies quietly, and Myles turns her whole body to face him. "All we have to do…" her best friend goes silent as his shaking hand points at a lever switch on the desk. "…is pull this. Hatches and vents will open, and the scrubbers reverse… pulling in outside air."

Myles can feel her heart beating in her throat, pounding away quickly and making time feel like it's passing much quicker than it actually is. Hazel eyes glance up to have another look over the monitors and her chest turns to ice at the sight of Emerson. He's crouching down outside of the command centre door, securing something to the door. The redheads gut screams the answer to her before he backs away and reveals a small bomb.

"He's gonna blow the door," Bellamy exclaims, yanking up his gun and pointing it at the door.

"Aggie," Monty's anxious voice calls, "we're out of time."

Hazel eyes spy Clarke, looking every bit as sure that this is the only thing left to do as Myles and Monty are, and it makes the redhead grip the lever, Dante's words echoing in her mind. Still, the red haired teen hesitates, the weight of all of these people, all of these children, dying at her hands sits on her shoulders heavily, making her arm feel too heavy to pull the lever down. Sweeping her teary and desperate eyes up to the dorm cameras, Myles stares at Marcus' still and drained form and Jasper's jittery figure chained to the wall.

_What's a little more blood?_

Octavia and Maya are forced to lie on their fronts on the floor in the mess hall, and Myles takes a shaky breath in, trying to steady herself for what she's about to do.

"My sister," Bellamy whispers thickly, locking his heartbroken, yet still loving, deep brown eyes on Myles' hazel. "My responsibility."

"I have to save them," Myles brokenly begs for him to understand, for that heartbroken look to leave his eyes.

Bellamy's large and kind hand rests on top of hers, and Myles lets her hot tears fall. Her dad was right, she destroys everything.

"Together," Bellamy's kind and nonjudgmental voice suggests, and she sniffs noisily.

She's too weak, too selfish to do this on her own, and now she's dragging Bellamy into it. Myles can't bear to say no, can't look into those eyes and say, 'no, I'll do this alone'.

"Together," the redheads thick and wet voice cracks.

Hazel eyes match his desperate and loving gaze, feeling even more tears slip down her face and she pulls the lever down, feeling Bellamy's kind hand help her.

It's remarkably evil. The fact that something so sinister as taking hundreds of innocent men, women and children's lives could be so… easy. There was no stuttering or resistance when they pulled the lever, it was seamless and smooth, as if it hadn't been weighed down by the deaths it will cause. As if it weren't real, and they hadn't actually done anything.

But they had. Red lights flash around them and the computers all beep in angry, dull tones as a loud alarm blares through the whole mountain. Myles makes the mistake of looking up and her eyes land on the monitors. The screens all flash mutedly, lights in the hallways and rooms flashing in warning that something is wrong as a computerised voice repeats; 'containment breach'. Cage and the guards in the dorm have stopped approaching a somehow unrestrained Jasper, looking around at the lights on the ceiling. Residents snap their heads around in alarm, seconds before the effects of the radiation start to become noticeable.

"I'm so sorry, Maya," Myles whispers, watching with wide and horrified eyes as people's skin blisters and boils.

People are choking, but watching it through a soundless screen allows Myles to feel detached and distant. Guards shiver and shake violently, dropping their weapons and falling to their knees. Cage watches them, before whipping his head around to stare with wide eyes at the camera. Jasper is still watching the scene with the same look of detachment that Myles feels, their minds not allowing them to fully grasp the reality of the situation.

Monty's hand wraps gently around her arm, squeezing her for a moment in a silent display of congruity. Myles whole body deflates at the touch, the lack of sleep and pain that has made up the last few weeks hitting her all at once. The redheads deflating and sinking form is saved from falling to her knees by her loving boyfriends arm. Bellamy holds her to his side, watching the monitors with her and trying to give her the strength she needs to finish this.

"You had to," Clarke's teary voice reminds them, rushing up to copy Monty by gripping both of their arms. "You had no choice, you had to."

Cage bolts from the dorm, and Jasper follows him out, but the redheads aching heart knows he's not going after the president. He's going for Maya. Her hazel eyes switch to the mess hall monitor, watching the masses of people writhe and disappear into a mess of deep, blistering sores. They're being burnt alive, dying in excruciating pain, feeling their skin and insides be eaten away.

"Emerson's gone," Myles croaks out, and everyone glances to the command centre door camera.

"Yeah," Clarke whispers, "lets go get our people."

Bellamy turns them, keeping his arm wrapped around his girlfriend, but Myles knows she needs to show herself standing on her own. She knows she needs them to think she's done this on her own, and Bellamy had no part in it. Straightening her posture and sniffing back her tears, Myles pulls herself from Bellamy's arm and wipes her face. The Blake brother moves easily with the change, reaching for the door and opening it, as if he knew she was going to do it before she knew herself.

Swallowing thickly, Myles leaves the room, carefully stepping around the explosive still secured to the door, after Bellamy, and her steps take her directly to the elevator. It's a quiet and slow venture, and the redhead knows it's because she's not the only one terrified to face what she's done. Pressing the button and stepping inside, her three friends follow her in, not one of them saying a word. Clarke silently presses the number 'five', and Myles can feel the elevator go up in her stomach.

"What do we say?" Monty enquires quietly after a moment, and everyone's eyes turn to him, but he's only looking at his best friend.

Myles doesn't need him to say anything more to know what he's talking about, and her heavy voice answers him just as quietly.

"I don't know," the red haired teen admits, shaking her head. "I don't know if there's anything to say." Monty's dark eyes fall downward, and it's silent until the elevator halts and dings. Myles mutters in a hushed tone before the door slides open, "poor JJ."

No one moves for a second, and Myles pushes off of the elevator wall to walk out first. All of their steps are as slow and heavy as hers, and all four of them stop once they reach the arched entrance to the mess hall. Hundreds of dead men, women and children lay in various positions in the room; clustered on the ground, draped over tables and scattered amongst the couches. Every single body is still, dead, and covered in horrific and bloody burns and blisters.

Hazel eyes scan over the bodies, only the loud alarm keeping them from the complete silence that threatens to overtake them now that they're all still and the air has been knocked from their lungs. Children's toys are sprinkled about the room; stuffed animals and a soccer ball a painful reminder of what they've taken. Blinking back more tears, Myles slowly steps down the small step and into the mess hall, slowly manoeuvring around the dead bodies.

She rounds a pillar and her heart stutters as her legs stop moving. Jasper is cradling a dead Maya in his lap, her body covered in the same burns and blisters. Her best friend has tears streaming down his flushed face, small sniffles being the only sound in the silent room. Brown eyes are glassy and filled with tears, looking up at the four with devastated betrayal etched into his watery irises.

"What did you do?" Jasper weakly questions, his voice cracking through the shuddered words.

Jasper look back down at Maya, taking a shaky and shuddered breath, and Myles says the only thing that comes to mind, "I'm so sorry."

"We had no choice," Clarke's voice quivers, and Jasper snaps his head back up to look at Myles.

"I was gonna kill Cage," Jasper whimpers, and Myles can see the tears drip from his face. His whole body heaves, as if he's rocking himself back and forth slightly. "If you'd just given me one more minute, it would've been over."

"Jasper," Bellamy tries to reason, his voice rough and remorse shining in his eyes. "They never would've stopped."

"We have to go to the dorm," Clarke insists, before looking back down at a sobbing Jasper and walking away.

Myles can't bear to walk away, and Bellamy only steps to the doorframe, looking back to wait for his girlfriend. Jasper looks back up at his two best friends, but now there's hatred brewing in his eyes.

"How could you let this happen?" Jasper's voice is harder now, but still shudders and cracks.

"I'm sorry," Monty expresses, his tone surer than his two best friends.

"Sorry?" Jasper repeats in a strangled whisper, and tears flood Myles' eyes at the pain in his as they flick between them. "You're sorry?"

The brown haired teen lifts his shaking hand, only to hold it in the air for a short moment as if he doesn't know what to do with it while he sobs. Unable to take looking at her best friend, her brother, like this anymore, Myles makes another selfish decision.

She walks away. Myles walks her slow and tentative steps towards Bellamy before the overwhelming pain and guilt makes her stop. Steadying herself on the back of a dining chair with a dead woman slumped over the table in it, the redheads chest starts to heave erratically with her frugal attempt to not cry. Her rapid breaths and the searing agony pumping through her veins makes her legs feel weak, as if the weight of the pressure on her shoulders is forcing her down to her knees.

Monty's kind and loving hands reach her a second before Bellamy's do, and they both pull the panicking red haired teen the rest of the way out of the mess hall. It doesn't take more than a few moments to round a few corners and land themselves at the dorm. Dead Mount Weather guards and doctors line the ground, and Arkers line the walls. Half of them are still chained there, and the other half actively work to free them but Myles' hazel eyes are drawn to the middle of the room.

Clarke is wrapped in Abby's arms, standing beside Marcus who sits on the bed he was drilled into on. He's no longer strapped down, but seeing him alive makes her steps halt. She's not sure she can face him, not sure she'll be able to take the look in his eyes at what she's done. Bellamy tries to nudge her in, but her boots are rooted in the ground. Monty squeezes her arm, making sure she knows he's there for her, but she can't _move_, can't decide whether or not to face him.

Marcus decides for her, turning his head and sagging in relief at the sight of her in the door. Thick tears cloud over her eyes, and she shakes her head quickly as her chest heaves rapidly. The councillor tries to move to her, but it's immediately clear that his legs are too sore and the guilt of making the injured man move is what propels her forward. Her steps are slow, and her blurry eyes scan his worried and relieved face for any sign that his expression might turn sour. It never does, and she finally makes it to the bed.

"Oh, sweetheart," Marcus sighs as tears start to spill down her face. His arms reach out and pull her the rest of the way to him, and he hugs her as tight as he can. Myles' arms wrap around him, her body shuddering violently with sobs she tries desperately to keep quiet. Her hands shake viciously, she can see them wrapped around him from where her head rests on his shoulder. "I know. I know."

Myles shakes her head fervently, swallowing back her sobs to pull away. Her chest heaves violently and noticeably with the force of trying to contain her crying. Shrugging halfheartedly, Myles nods and sniffs loudly as her chest hiccups.

"I tr – I tried," Myles nods even more, as if trying to convince herself. Sucking in her throat, "I tried to be the good guy."

Marcus' face falls and his hands lift to frame her face, "oh, kiddo." His thumbs brush at her falling tears, and his eyes flick off to the side for a moment as he thinks through his next words. Scrunching up his nose, he locks his brown eyes back onto the closest thing he has to a daughter. Brushing his fingers on her face a bit more to comfort her, "maybe there are no good guys."

That sentiment makes her feel a little better, and she starts nodding rapidly again. Not because she believes the words Marcus has just whispered to her, but because they mean that he doesn't hate her. Tears continue to pour down her cheeks, and she raises her forearms to her eyes and aching head. She leans over towards Marcus in exhaustion, and he pulls her forward to hold her against his chest.

Bellamy's large and kind hands rubs on her back, and one of Marcus' hands leaves her body to rest on the Blake brothers shoulder.

"You did good," Marcus promises Bellamy, "now lets get these people home."

They've been walking all night, but Camp Jaha is finally in sight. The mid-morning sun beats down on them, warming them up in the otherwise chilly winter air. Monty, Myles and Bellamy walk at the front of the line Arkers alongside Marcus' stretcher. She knows this is where it has to end, knows that this is it, knows that this might be the last time she ever holds Bellamy's hand.

Knows that she has to set Bellamy free.

Her chest constricts painfully at the thought of the look in his eyes when she tells him and the empty feeling of her hand when she lets him go. This is the right thing to do, for everybody.

It's better for him if she's not there when her father makes his way here; he'll have no reason to get himself into trouble for her. He'll be better off finding someone who's as good looking and kind hearted as he is, someone who'll take care of him and love him like he deserves. Someone who won't be so selfish that they make him pull a lever to kill hundreds of people. No more blood will be on his hands because of her.

Jasper and Monty will be able to mend things, and won't get roped into the disasters that she seems to attract. Jasper can grieve without having to see the face of the person who killed the girl he loves everyday. Monty will thrive, maybe get a girlfriend now that he won't have to worry about Myles killing her, too. Octavia and Lincoln can live happily together, safe inside the camp borders. It will be the first time Octavia gets to live on Ark property with other Arkers, without having to hide and fear for hers and her family's lives every moment of every day.

Clarke can be a leader, or maybe just go back to living her own life, not having to worry about Myles and whatever she's destroying. Harper, Nate, and the other former delinquents get to have proper lives, without threats and responsibilities far bigger than themselves hanging over their heads every day.

Marcus… Marcus will survive. They both know neither one can stay apart for too long, their father-daughter bond far too strong.

Arkers walking in front of them call out to open the gate, and the Camp Jaha gate swings open. The injured being carried on stretchers go in first, and the redhead pats Marcus lightly with his splint as she slows and those carrying his stretcher overtake her, promptly followed by everyone else. Myles stops at the gate, watching Marcus and his stretcher be swallowed up by the crowd of people entering the camp. Bellamy and Monty both stop with her, but they don't question it, merely leaning against the gate and giving her the time that she needs. Clarke looks back at them from her spot nestled in Abby's side before they, too, disappear from sight.

Myles won't have to spend every minute waiting for her father to walk through this gate. Won't have to keep anyone else up with her nightmares, and won't have to face those around her when she wakes from them. She won't have anything left to ruin, to destroy. She won't have _anyone _left to destroy.

This is best for everyone. None of them should have to bear the mark of having a genocide on their hearts; that's Myles', and Myles' alone.

Excited chatter sounds from inside of the camp, people readily greeting the returning Arkers. Parents rush up to their kids and engulf them in relieved embraces. Lincoln and Octavia walk in, and they both look at the couple and Monty waiting at the gate as they walk past them. A pang of sorrow shoots through her chest, Lincoln breaking free from the grounders grasp means he'll never be able to leave the Camp Jaha walls. In the eyes of his people, he's a traitor, he chose the Arkers over them, and he will never be able to return.

Jasper isn't far behind them, walking in shakily and alone, not even looking up from the ground to see them. Wick carries Raven into the camp, and that makes it the last of the Arkers, leaving only Bellamy, Monty and Myles left.

Myles looks at Monty's sad eyes, and she realises that she underestimated him. He didn't stay behind with her because she needed time, he knows she's saying goodbye. Letting go of Bellamy's hand, the red haired teen and her best friend hug each other tightly. They both know they don't need to say anything, their lifelong bond somehow knowing exactly what the other is thinking and feeling.

Even still, Monty whispers in her ear, "stay safe, okay?"

"You, too," Myles breathes out quietly, hugging her best friend tighter. "Give JJ time. Take care of the both of you. I love you."

"I love you," the black haired teen quietly echoes, before pulling back to place a long kiss to her hair.

Monty slips away slowly, letting their hands stay brushing against each other until he's too far away to reach her anymore. And then he's gone, walking into Camp Jaha, all alone. Finally, her hazel eyes look to Bellamy, his face is twisted in confusion, watching the Asian teen go as he steps up to Myles.

"I think we deserve a damn good drink," Bellamy says lightly, looking at her with_ that_ look.

Guilt grips at Myles' tired heart when she replies, "have one for me."

"Hey," the Blake brother soothes, bringing his hands up to frame her delicate features. "We can get through this."

Myles sucks in her bottom lip, lifting her hands to gently pull Bellamy's down, "I'm not staying, Bell. I'm not going in."

"Aggie," Bellamy starts strongly, shifting on his feet. "If you need forgiveness… I'll give that to you." Myles tilts her head, staring up into the eyes of the handsome man repeating her words from so long ago with her sad and adoring gaze. "You're forgiven."

"I love you, Bellamy Blake," Myles proclaims instead, and Bellamy fights to ignore the overwhelming tug at his heart her saying his name creates.

"Don't do this," Bellamy pleads, his eyes glassy and wet as he lifts his hands to her face again. "Please, come inside."

"Take care of yourself, Bell," the redhead requests softly, "and them."

"Aggie," the Blake brother shakes his head, stroking his fingers over her face while he shifts anxiously on his feet.

"I was never going to stay," the red haired teen reminds him, and his face falls even further into despair. "You know that. This was always the plan."

"It doesn't have to be," the man's desperate voice refutes. "You don't have to leave anymore. You can stay."

"I can't," Myles admits, nodding to herself, "I can't see their faces everyday… not after what I did."

"What _we_ did," Bellamy corrects urgently, bringing his face even closer to hers. "You don't have to do this alone."

Taking a deep breath in, hazel eyes glisten as she repeats Dante's words, "I bear it, so they don't have to."

The heartbroken look that crosses his face and the desperate movements he makes breaks Myles' heart. Bellamy shakes his head, his curly dark brown hair swaying and flopping.

"Then I'm coming with you," he asserts, but his tone is almost begging, as if he knows she won't let him. "I'll come with you."

"Bell," Myles shakes her head slowly, her soft and loving eyes still stuck on his. "You need to stay. For them. For O."

Bringing his forehead to rest against hers roughly, the man in front of her huffs shakily before shaking his head against hers.

"Where are you gonna go?" Bellamy's broken voice asks, his deep brown eyes filled with worry.

"I don't know," Myles answers honestly, pushing her lips into a thin line.

The answer doesn't calm his fretting mind, and tears fill his eyes as they switch between hers. Leaning up on her toes, Myles presses a loving kiss to his cheek and wraps her arms around him tightly. Bellamy's arms are around her in an instant, squeezing her skinny frame as tightly as he can and burying his face in her neck. The Blake brothers arms are on top of the redheads long red ponytail, making it tug uncomfortably at her head. He takes a deep breath in, as does Myles, and she allows herself a moment more in the loving and safe arms of Bellamy Blake, the intoxicating musky scent of pine and sweat being ingrained in her mind.

Neither one lets go for a few minutes more, both standing there and holding each other as if their lives depend on it.

"May we meet again," Myles promises shakily into his ear, and his arms squeeze around her tighter.

"Please, don't do this," Bellamy's voice is thick with emotion, and Myles swallows as she resolves herself.

Pulling her hands back, Myles pushes him away gently, and he lets her. His teary deep brown eyes are heartbroken, and his mouth shifts with silent words Myles isn't even sure he knows the meaning of. Stepping back slowly, Myles turns but let's their hands gradually slip away like she did with Monty.

Only this time, at the last second, Bellamy tightens his hand and yanks her to him. Myles turns into him in surprise, and the Blake brother ducks his head down to give her one last kiss. It's slow and sweet, meant to memorise everything there is to know about one another. They stay like that, both falling into each other and moving their soft lips against one another's until their lungs scream for air.

Myles tries to pull away, but Bellamy's hands tighten on her face, keeping their noses pressed together. The red haired teen opens her mouth to ask to him to let her go, when his pleading voice begs her one last time.

"Say it again," his voice is croaky and wrecked with emotion, and he doesn't even need to say what he means for her to know.

"I love you," Myles starts, and Bellamy holds his breath as he waits for the last two words. "Bellamy Blake."

Bellamy releases the breath he held shakily, lifting his head to press a long kiss to her forehead. When he pulls his lips away, he doesn't do so completely, instead keeping his nose pressed to the one crease she has there.

"I love you, Aggie," Bellamy echoes, wetly, before stepping back completely and wiping at his nose. Myles watches him for a moment, taking slow steps backwards when he continues. "May we meet again."

And with that, Myles turns away and walks back down the dirt path they had just walked up. She can feel his eyes on her, following her retreating form before they leave her completely.

Myles looks back when she reaches the tree line, hoping for one last look at the man that she loves. Bellamy stands in the middle of the still open gate, and when she looks to him, he looks back at her, as if feeling her gaze on him. Hazel eyes stay on his distant form until he's completely obstructed by trees.

Myles' hazel eyes stay focussed on the pitch black woods through the glass window, following the path illuminated by the large white lights. Shifting her bad hand off of the steering wheel to rest her elbow on the window and lean her bandage wrapped hand to her butt-length red hair, the redhead heaves a heavy sigh. When she does, the hard metal rod that keeps her broken fingers immobile pokes into her head.

A tree with half of a branch chopped off is quickly followed by a boulder surrounded by a cluster of stones to her left. It's a familiar sight, and it makes the red haired teen press on the brake and put her bad hand back on the steering wheel as she changes down the gears to come to a careful stop. Her fingers pause on the long stick behind the steering wheel.

Glancing to the passenger seat on her right, Myles can barely make out the shape of a tan coloured book beside her. 'The Iliad' is typed on the cover in black, skinny lettering above a black shadow of a Roman Empire helmet.

Heaving another long breath, her hazel eyes jump back up to look through the windscreen as her hand twists the stick to turn off the headlights. Waiting a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, Myles puts the rover in first gear and starts to crawl forward. It's a straight shot from here, she knows, no fallen branches or trees, large stones or anything else that could possibly be on the path, but still she goes slow.

Putting the rover in second gear, the redhead crawls forward at this low speed until the distant lights from Camp Jaha can be seen. She's almost at their meeting spot, she can tell even though it's hard to see through the dim moonlight. Shifting both of her hands on the steering wheel, Myles prepares to park the rover. Going forward a bit more, Myles can make out two figures standing in the darkness, waiting for her.

How strange, he's never brought someone else before. Flicking the steering wheel, the red haired teen hits the brakes and puts in it reverse. The dull reversing lights are hardly enough to see with, but what she does manage to make out makes her feet hesitate to lift off of the clutch and the brake.

It's Jasper. His hair is buzzed short, but it's definitely Jasper. She hasn't so much as gotten a glimpse of him since she left, only hearing stories about how he's doing. Finally lifting her feet up, the rover starts to inch backwards.

The stories she hears are never good. All of them having to do with Jasper being either drunk or high out of his mind, or both. They're riddled with sloppy, half-assed fights with whoever he can irk enough to justify punching and making as many scenes as he can. The poor kid has been struggling. When things first started to go bad when they came down, Jasper had always felt it the hardest, had always been the most affected.

Stopping the rover again when she's sure she's backed up enough, the redhead yanks the handbrake up as she turns the car off and pulls the keys out of the ignition. Opening her door, she slips out into the cold winter air. Sweeping her hand to make sure her long red hair is out of the way, the redhead shuts the door behind her. Myles begins walking up to the two waiting for her and her eyes start to adjust to the darkness.

"Hey, kiddo," Marcus greets as the redhead unlocks the back door of the rover. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Myles answers shortly, swinging the creaky door open and switching on the small, dim light on the ceiling.

"Where's your splint?" Jasper asks out of nowhere, his words dull and slurred.

He doesn't sound drunk, or even tipsy, really. It's more of a careless slur, as if he lacks the motivation to enunciate his words.

"I took it off," the redhead replies simply, "it was too restrictive."

"So this is what you've been doing?" Jasper's angry voice accuses, his brown eyes glassy.

Hazel eyes jut from her best friend to Marcus as he steps up to the back door with her.

"There was an incident last night," the councillor informs her, and Myles leans into the rover to drag a wooden crate to the door. Her long curtain of red hair slinks forward and in the way, and her chest burns with mild resentment. "I thought this might set things straight."

"You have a car," Jasper's bitter tone is strong, but his voice wavers as his sloppy words slur. Marcus helps her lift the heavy crate and drop it solidly onto the platform trolley that she had reversed up to. "This is what you've been doing for the last two weeks? Driving around free while we all thought you were dead."

The news that they think she's dead makes her freeze in shock, "Well…" Myles shifts awkwardly before turning around to help Marcus with another crate, "I'm not."

"You're where it all comes from?" Her best friends voice is low and almost unrecognisable. "All the clothes and produce and supplies." Myles doesn't answer, instead plopping the second crate down and moving on to the last one. When the last crate is on the trolley, Jasper speaks again, his voice sinister and rumbling through the cold night air. "Don't you have anything to say to me?"

Myles sighs, pausing under the light and leaning back against the floor of the rover through the open back door. Hazel eyes look at the teen in front of her. It's not the Jasper she knows, this boy is dark and has a careless air to him that makes him reckless.

"I'm sorry," Myles supplies, watching the dark look on his face twist up into a sarcastic smile.

"Sorry?" Jasper snarks, "Yeah, that's what Monty keeps saying, too. But sorry doesn't bring any oF THEM BACK!"

She doesn't flinch back when he screams at her, instead she keep her hazel eyes blank and watching him as his chest heaves aggressively. Marcus keeps back, but doesn't go anywhere, keeping close for reasons Myles isn't sure of yet.

It's silent, only the crickets speaking for a moment before Jasper deflates. Raising his arms halfheartedly and then thinking better of it, it takes another beat for the brown haired boy to find his words.

"Did you do it…" Jasper starts, his voice sounding defeated, like he's given up. "Because of what they did to you?"

Her left arm jitters violently by her side, and Myles breaks eye contact fleetingly.

"Maybe," she admits softly, her red eyebrows in a worried frown. "I don't know." Shrugging lazily, Myles decides to divulge some more. "If I could go back," Myles whispers, honestly, "change it all, do it differently, I would. But I can't."

Jasper huffs and puffs a little more, starting to walk around in circles before whipping back around to face the redhead.

"That's not the answer I wanted," the brown haired boy whispers darkly.

"Okay," the redhead breathes, "what _do_ you want?"

"I don't want to understand it," Jasper's weak voice wobbles out angrily, "I want someone to hate. I want to blame someone, and there's no one left! What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!"

"You can blame me," Myles suggests gently, "I pulled the lever. Blame me. I should've known better, I should've tried harder."

Jasper stops walking in circles to glance at Myles and twitch his legs, "what if I don't want to blame you anymore?"

Myles' chest aches for her best friend, "I don't know."

It's silent between them again, and Myles glances to Marcus awkwardly. The councillor merely quirks an eyebrow in response, and Myles checks the watch on her left wrist.

"Well," the red haired teen sigh loudly, pushing off of the rover, "it's 3:40. I've gotta get home before – "

"Home?" Jasper echoes quietly, and Myles looks back at him. "Where's that?"

"South," Myles answers, nodding her head in that direction. "On the border of Ouskejon and Trigeda. About a 14 hour walk, but it's only forty minutes in the rover."

Jasper hesitates, jutting his arm out and his whole body anxiously jolting before he finally asks, "what's that like?"

"You can come and stay, JJ," the redhead breathes with a kind smile. "Take a break from here. You're always welcome." Jasper relaxes slightly and Myles adds, "but if you want to come now, I'm only going to be home for a few hours. I've gotta get to Yujleda for Leygeda before tomorrow. It's a 10 hour drive."

"Leygeda?" Jasper repeats, his face full of confusion.

"It's like a festival," Myles explains, "they have a bunch of markets where you can buy or trade things for food, clothing, jewellery – anything you can imagine, they have it there. There's one every two weeks in Boudalan, but there's a really fucking huge one once a month in Yujleda."

"That sounds cool," her best friend replies, but his tone is dull and disinterested.

"They have bars there," the redhead adds, and Jasper immediately perks up, before starting to walk towards her slowly.

Myles turns the light off before shutting the back door and locking it. Walking up to the passenger door, Myles opens it and grabs the book, leaving the door open for Jasper to climb in. He does, and the redhead turns back around to face Marcus.

"I, uh…" Myles starts, shifting the book around nervously in her hands as Jasper shuts his door, "can I ask a favour?"

"You want me to give this to him?" Marcus enquires knowingly, a sad smile on his face.

"Yeah, if you could," the red haired teen requests, handing the book over. "You don't have to tell him it's from me, but, uh… just – just please make sure that gets to Bell."

"No problem," the councillor reassures, pulling her in for a hug. "Heard anything from Murphy and Jaha?"

"Uh… last I heard some Wastelanders saw the group they went with in the Dead Zone," the redhead shrugs unhelpfully. She doesn't tell him that she doesn't expect either Murphy or Jaha to come back, and she definitely doesn't tell him it's her fault. "Is there anything in particular you want from the markets?" Myles asks when they pull away, and Marcus immediately waves her off.

"Whatever you think would do good here," Marcus dismisses easily, "make a note of what's there for next month. We never know what we may need." The councillor presses a kiss to the teens hair, "you take care of yourself. If he starts getting hard to handle, bring him back."

"Okay," Myles smiles kindly, walking around the rover to the drivers door and waving goodbye. "Make sure they know I'm not dead and JJ's okay."

"Will do," Marcus waves back, before pushing the trolley with the crates on it towards Camp Jaha.

The second Myles is in the car, she turns the front ceiling light on and twists around to check the back of the rover. Jasper watches her curiously, glancing in the back as well.

"You forget something?" Her best friend questions, and Myles turns back around to turn the light off.

"No," Myles answers, putting the key in the ignition and turning the rover on. "To survive, I've started a list of rules. I'm at about 20 now."

Confusion spreads across Jasper's face as Myles puts the car in first gear and starts to crawl forward.

"And that was a rule?" Jasper reiterates, still completely lost. "To survive?"

Myles gives him a quick glance, keeping slow on the darkness cloaked path, "rule number 11: always check the backseat."

The words make Jasper's glassy brown eyes go wide and his body go stiff, before whipping around to look at the backseat.

**AN: Hey all! First and foremost, thank you all for reading my story, I really hope you liked it :)**

**Secondly, as you might've been able to tell, season three will take on a slightly more canon divergent approach. I will be keeping the main plot lines (in order to keep the continuity that flows through the show) but I will be muddying up the timeline a bit and changing some things around in order to create what a world with Myles/Aggie in it would be. Obviously, there are important ups and downs and cataclysmic events that need to happen to find our characters where they are in the show, and I understand that, all I hope to do is add a bit more _journey_, rather than just keep the _destination_.**

**If that's not what floats your boat, that's completely okay, and I thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. **

**Once again, thank you for all the absolutely lovely comments, and I hope to see you in the next book! Much Love :)**


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